


None of Your Business

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 37,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Well, it’s very nice to meet you at last, Angus.”  She rolled his name around in her mouth as though she hadn’t been screaming it the night before. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Gold tries to balance lust and trust with less finesse than he'd like to admit. Luckily, Belle can give as good as she gets.</p><p>A Modern Day Rumbelle Office AU. (No FTL, No curse.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chestnuts Roasting....

**Author's Note:**

> I called Mr. Gold "Angus" again because it kind of stuck from my last story. (Plus, Bad Faery gave me the headcanon that his initial are A.U.)
> 
> (P.S. I don't hate Regina, but Gold's POV is not nice regarding her. Just a head's up.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so this was my very first multi-chap Rumbelle fic. I started in season two and slowly updated then abandoned it when I ran out of ideas. But I FINALLY wrote an ending! It is complete unless I decide to add an epilogue or get a prompt I can't resist ;-)

                                                                        

Angus Gold hated parties. Loathed them. Detested them with every fibre of his being. While he excelled at social politicking, he had never found much need for interaction outside of an office setting.  But ‘twas the season and he needed to make nice in hopes old St. Nick would take pity on his latest merger. All his life he’d been turning lumps of coal into diamonds, applying just enough pressure with the right amount of patience. Then that bitch Regina had taken half his client list out from under him when she absconded. He should have known that blood would out. Cora’s daughter had been an excellent apprentice when she started. After college, a rebellious Regina was all too happy to go to work for the man that pissed off dear old Mom. Unfortunately, time had hardened Cora and softened Regina. It took only a few words of poison dripped into Regina’s willing ear and Angus’s carefully built infrastructure was splintered from within.

Oh, he had a failsafe or two, of course he did. This deal with Moe French was one of them - hence the flight to Boston in this wretched weather. So, here he stood on the doorstep of a large, handsome brownstone, in his second-best tuxedo. He held an exceedingly expensive bottle of wine in one hand and his cane in the other. Before ringing the bell, he took a moment to compose himself. Regina’s trifling with his work would not go unpunished, of that he was sure. Tonight, however, he had to remember how to be charming. He had been once, after all. Cora was ambitious in her youth, but she would not have fallen so easily into his life (and his bed) without a little finesse.

He squared his shoulders and used the handle of his cane to press the buzzer. A plump, pleasant-looking woman in a linen uniform and what appeared to be reindeer antlers opened it. She smiled warmly at him and offered to take his coat. He gave it to her and she promised that Moe French would be right down. He realized with an unpleasant shudder that he was the first to arrive. As the housekeeper (maid?) led him into a sitting room, he took in the garish decorations adorning each wall. The house was positively covered in tinsel and wreathes. Popular music he vaguely recognized as having a Holiday theme crooned from small speakers set into various nooks. The most appalling of all was the giant tree that loomed nearly to the ceiling, set close to the back of the room. It was ringed with flickering lights and weighed down in every direction with baubles that glinted and sparkled.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. French may not have an iota of good taste but he ran a damn fine business and Angus was here in a show of good faith. He would compliment the crass finery, have a drink, listen to the cheesy music and shuffle off to his hotel as quickly as could be considered polite. He drew the line at sampling the fruitcake that took center stage on the table. Experience had taught him to avoid that unholy confection.

The uniformed woman re-appeared and offered him a glass of wine. He accepted gladly and took a seat as far from the tree as he could find, setting the wine bottle on the table. The song changed and for a moment he thought of many, many Christmases ago when trees and wreaths and all that good cheer had not seemed so trite and hollow. The song that played now had played in his own house once, and he could almost hear the small, high-pitched voice that had tried to sing along…

“Angus!” A male voice with a distinctive Australian accent broke through his reverie and he was both disappointed and grateful for the interruption. Moe stood half a head over him, wearing an elegant tuxedo with a red tie that lit up in the middle. He held a drink on one hand and stretched the other in front of him, in greeting.

Angus rose and took the extended hand. “Moe. Always a pleasure.”

Moe laughed as they shook hello. “You’re a rotten liar, Gold. You look like the cat spat you up and _then_ dragged you here.”

 “My apologies. I got in rather late last night and I’m afraid I did not get much sleep.” What little sleep he did get had been a drunken stupor, but he would omit that fact.

Moe clapped him on the shoulder and Angus tried not to flinch. “Whatever the circumstances, I’m glad I finally got you out here for one of my world famous soirees! “

Angus glanced around the empty room. “Yes, it seems quite… festive.”

“You’re early, my friend. It won’t get busy until at least 9 or 10. Everyone loves to be fashionably late in the city. I see Marcia already got you a drink. Wonderful woman. My little girl and I wouldn’t know what to do without her. Well, not so little anymore, my girl. Have you met my Belle?”

 “Not in person. She was away at school the last time I was in town, if I remember correctly. However, I believe that since she graduated, my assistants and I have exchanged more emails with her than with yourself. ” Angus smiled thinly. Moe’s daughter had taken on quite a good deal of her father’s workload after she finished graduate school. He was very familiar with her environmentally conscious email signature and her propensity for florid language. In all, she seemed to have a good enough head on her shoulders, even for someone hired through obvious nepotism. Moe’s business had flourished in the past few years and he had a sneaking suspicion that little Miss French may have had a hand in that development.

“Ah, well she’ll be here tonight, with her young man. I’m not ashamed to say, I think she’s made an excellent choice there. They were both at the top of their class at Harvard. She won out for Valedictorian, of course, but I’ve heard that Grayson gave her a run for her money!” Moe laughed again and took a long sip of the amber liquid he was swirling in the crystal glass before continuing.

Angus gave as interested a look as he could muster. As Moe rambled on about his progeny’s stunning accomplishments, Angus’s mind kept wandering pleasantly back to the wee hours of the morning. His foray to a local bar had taken a rather unexpected turn the night before. If there was time before his plane left, he fully intended to stop in that same bar once more. Moe’s galloping monologue was finally halted as they heard the front door open and shut.

“Papa? Are you in here?” A female voice, also Australian, echoed into the parlor. Gold shifted his weight so he was relying less obviously on his cane for support.

“In the parlor, sweetheart.” Moe called back. “Our first guest has arrived.”

“Oh? Really? And I’m not even half presentable… Grayson is parking the car. I was going to run up to my old room and… “ Her voice trailed off as she entered the room, hands busily tucking her messy curls into an up-do. Her eyes went wide as she saw him and her hands paused in mid-air. She was a vision in champagne colored satin, fitted perfectly to her curves and slit just high enough to showcase a set of truly remarkable legs.

Angus swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Her accent was different, her clothes far more expensive, and her makeup less pronounced. Yet, he would know her in a heartbeat even if he were blind and deaf. He knew what those sinuous legs felt like wrapped around his waist. He knew the sounds she made at the height of her pleasure.  Right now, he could read the panic in her gaze, saw her lower lip tremble. He blinked rapidly and opened his mouth to speak but Belle recovered first.

“Hello, you must be a business associate of my father’s. I’m Belle French.” She reached for his hand and he gave it dumbly.

“Your… your father speaks very highly of you.”

“Well, don’t believe everything he tells you. I promise I did not invent sliced bread or penicillin.” She smiled winningly, wrapping an arm around her father’s much larger one.

That surprised a genuine laugh out of him and the initial shock abated. “I have seen quite a few of your emails, actually. I think the praise is like to be well earned.”

She blushed prettily at that and he felt a glimmer of self-satisfaction. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?”

“That’s because I didn’t throw it.” He cringed immediately after the words left his mouth but Belle laughed lightly. “It’s Angus Gold.”

“Oh! Yes, we have spoken quite a bit, haven’t we? You always sign your emails as A. Gold, I think, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you at last, _Angus_.”  She rolled his name around in her mouth as though she hadn’t been screaming it the night before. An agreeable shiver ran up his spine with the memory.

“Wonderful to finally meet in the flesh, Miss French.” He caught and held her gaze until she blushed again and looked away.

“Call me Belle, please.” She turned to her father. “Papa, I hope you’ll excuse me while I finish getting ready. Grayson will be along any moment so you boys can talk football to your hearts’ content.” She placed a light kiss on her father’s cheek and, avoiding Angus’s eyes, walked out of the room.

He released a long, slow breath. Tonight had suddenly become a lot more interesting.

 

 


	2. Silver Bells...

 

Belle French was the apple of her father’s eye. She was his sweet, perfect angel. She went to just the right school and got all the right grades. She was dating the right man.  She wore the right dresses (by only the right designers) and almost always said the right thing. In short, Belle French was bored out of her fucking skull.

When Grayson told her he had to go out of town just before her father’s big Christmas party, Belle saw an opportunity for adventure. Moe would be far too busy with planning to worry what his dainty little daughter might be doing. Not to mention that he would assume she was curled safely in Grayson’s bed with a book in her hands. Belle loved a good book. Books took her places she could only ever dream about otherwise. She could fight glorious battles and frolic with fairies, or just spend a day outside of this drab, bourgeois existence. Yet books were not real life and every story eventually came to an end.  Belle longed to find an escape outside of their pages.

So, the night before the party, she visited one of those stores that she would never be caught dead in by any of her college chums. She darkened her makeup and teased up her hair and slid her well-toned body into a slinky, glittery little number that revealed more than it hid. The thigh high stockings with the lace tops and the little black garter belt were the finishing touch. It all felt wonderfully, deliciously wrong.

This close to a holiday, most places would be pretty deserted, and she took a risk of being recognized if she went anywhere familiar. So she went a little further into town. There were some decent places by the airport that would suit. It was exciting and terrifying to strut into that little bar on her too-tall heels. All eyes flew to her long legs and sleek curves. The shy schoolgirl in her froze momentarily, but every femme fatale she had ever read came flooding to mind. Before she knew it, she was tossing back shots bought by businessmen with watery eyes and gleaming wedding rings they were trying to hide.

She had learned to play pool in a common room of her campus. The mathematics of the game had always been appealing. Even with the alcohol buzzing in her veins, the angles were simple to line up. Pretty soon, she had a decent sized wad of cash building up beside her. A few more drinks in, she decided it was time to call it quits and stumbled to the bar to cash out. Surprisingly, her tab had been paid. An older gentlemen with a dark suit and a cane in one hand tilted his head in acknowledgement of her gratitude.

“You didn’t have to do that.” For further anonymity, she forced herself into an American accent. It felt stranger on her tongue than the tequila had, but it seemed safer this way.

“No matter.” The man had a distinct accent of his own and her fuzzy mind raced to place it.

She gestured with a fistful of dollars as she pulled herself onto a neighboring stool. “I can buy your next drink, if you like.” He tilted his head and looked at her curiously. She noticed that his hair brushed his lapels, incongruously long to the fastidiousness of his attire. She immediately liked that about him, though she could not quite say why. She also liked the fact that his large, dark eyes never strayed from her face. The attention she attracted all night was intentional, but she was starting to feel like a piece of meat under so many hungry gazes.

The bartender stopped to ask them if they wanted anything and the man ordered a whiskey, neat. Belle smiled and placed a $20 on the bar triumphantly. He turned back to face her. “Thank you, Miss…?”

She had been giving out different names all evening (and a few different phone numbers that she hoped were disconnected). She glanced down at her crossed legs, the synthetic fabric riding high enough to reveal the decorative stocking-top.

“I’m… Lacey. And you are?” She extended her hand in greeting.

“Angus.”

Angus took her hand and brushed a kiss to the top. His slight stubble tickled. Belle flushed a little at both the courtly gesture and the feeling of his warm lips. Unexpected tingles ran up from her arm and down her body, settling at her core. Even in this advanced state of inebriation, she recognized that she was attracted to him. She hadn’t the slightest idea how to proceed from here.

It had been a very long time since she was on the market. Grayson had snapped her up back in college and since he was good looking and intelligent, she had not objected. She had always had more of an affinity for fictional characters than real people. When a boy her father approved of decided to make her his girlfriend, it made life easier for her. She had a date to every garden party and it made her father very proud- Grayson was from a top family and got excellent grades. He was on sports teams and spoke articulately about politics. He read only for school and seemed annoyed by her habit of quoting literature when talking about real life but he always forgave her because she was his flawless little turtledove.

Thinking of Grayson now made her stomach turn. He was so careful with her, so meticulous. She could have timed his foreplay to the minute. He usually made some effort to bring her off but she was not always excited enough to find release, so she faked it to assuage his ego. She wondered idly if Angus would be so predictable....

Not that she was that kind of girl. She had gone out to have a good time and play the part of the bad girl, but she didn’t pick up random strangers in seedy bars.  Still, a little flirting could do no harm. She rested her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Angus. It’s nice to see there are some gentlemen left in the world.”

He chuckled slightly. “If you see one around here, let me know, lass. I’ll be sure to steer clear.”

She gave a surprised giggle. “Well, you paid for my drinks for a whole night without even knowing my name. How is that not at least somewhat chivalrous?”

He shrugged and sipped at his whiskey. “You put on a good show at the pool table over there. I thought someone ought to tip you for it.”

She felt the color rising in her cheeks. “Oh. Well. If that’s all it is, then I suppose I’d better leave you to your voyeurism and be on my way.” She huffed indignantly as she slid off the stool. The ground was a little too close in those shoes; she stumbled and blushed even harder at the loss of dignity. Feeling rather humiliated, she shuffled to the door.

She had just exited the bar and was determined to hail a cab when she heard a voice behind her calling.

“Lacey! Wait. Please.”

When she did not turn, a firm hand grasped her bare arm. She whirled to face him, reaching into her little purse for her pepper spray. It was Angus, looking a little more disheveled than he had at the bar and very disappointed.

“What do you want? I’m going home and if you try to keep me here, I will scream.”

Angus released her arm quickly and splayed his free hand in front of himself – a gesture of surrender. The other hand still held tight to his cane and her eyes flicked over it every few moments so that she would see movement if he decided to use it as a weapon.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean… That’s not why I did what I did. I just…" He screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The cold air was licking at her limbs and starting to seep through her dress, Belle shivered and shifted her weight. “Look, it’s fine, ok? You don’t know me. I don’t know you. I appreciate you picking up my tab- whatever the reason.”

Instead of replying, Angus removed his wool overcoat and wrapped it around her slender shoulders. She thought to reject the offer, but it was too damn cold and no cabs had come by yet. He was not much taller than she was, but the coat was more than sufficient to shield her from the wind.

“Thank you.”

Angus flexed his free hand at his side and nodded. “If you like, I can have my driver take you home. He’s on his way. I’ll wait here if… if you don’t…”

“Your driver?”

He nodded again. “Not my regular driver, but he seems efficient enough. I’m only in town for a few days. Should be here any minute.”

“So, you don’t pick up girls in bars like this all the time?”

He looked pained. “I wasn’t trying to pick you up.” She looked at him quizzically and he relented. “ I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed you and quite enjoyed your presence tonight. But I’d never expect… “ He shook his head, the words trailing off into the winter night.

“Then why pay for my drinks?”

She could have sworn his cheeks turned a little pinker in the dim streetlight. His voice was a little gruff when he answered, but he met her eyes unflinchingly. “Honestly? I didn’t want anyone else to pick up the bill and try to make you feel… obligated.”

She sidled closer (for warmth, she told herself). “Obligated? Isn’t that rather old-fashioned?”

“Many men still are. They see a beautiful woman such as yourself and think that they can take advantage. I overheard a few of the men at the bar talking and, well, it just seemed the easiest way to avoid unpleasantness.”

She smirked. “So you are chivalrous after all. Maybe not so much in word as in deed.”

“Chivalry is dead, Lacey. I just don’t like to see an innocent exploited.” He shrugged.

She was mere inches away from him now. She had not even noticed herself moving, but they were so close she could feel his breath as he spoke. He smelled like cinnamon.  She leaned in, instinctively. His pupils dilated and his Adam’s apple bobbed but his eyes remained on hers.

“Do I look innocent?” She purred, happy to feel back in control and powerfully seductive.

“Yes.” The word was whispered in a shaky breath but it took all the wind once more out of her sails.

“Oh.” She drew back a little, though they still stood toe to toe.

“Not the answer you were looking for, I take it.”

“I was hoping for dangerous or sexy… something like that.” She fought the urge to pout.

He gave a wicked half-smile. “You can’t hide who you are, even behind all that makeup. You look like a lost lamb trying to dress up in wolf’s clothing.”

She was about to reply when a long black car pulled up in front of them. Angus opened the back door and gestured. It felt oddly natural to climb in and slide across the seat. He dipped down to wish her goodnight but she patted the seat next to her. “Come on, Angus. No point in you waiting here. Get in.”

He got in a little awkwardly, arranging his cane to one side. “Where to, then?”

Belle settled back in the seat and gave him a slow smile. “Where are you staying?”

His brows rose but he gave the driver the order to drop them both at his hotel.

Belle felt the blood pumping in her veins, the adrenaline of victory coursed through her. She’d show him how much of the wolf remained in these clothes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in the next chap ;-)


	3. Silent Night, Holy Night...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promised smut!

It was a short ride to the hotel. In warmer weather they could have walked easily. He made no attempt to touch her, aside from a guiding hand at the small of her back once they stepped out of the elevator.

His hotel room was not as lush as she had expected, but it was still obviously expensive. It was very near the top and she could see a vast portion of the city when she stood by the large bay window. He offered to call room service if she was hungry but she declined. She was not ready to sober up just yet. If she did, she may well lose her nerve.

She traced squiggly patterns onto the frosted window pane, suddenly unsure of herself once more. She had wanted something different; something a little dangerous. Grayson’s touch was the only one she had ever known, but she knew that not all men made love the same way.

Her body was screaming for Angus to touch her, undress her, and press his lips to every inch of her skin. Yet, they stood with half a room between them as he fiddled with his cufflinks and she watched the world grow darker and colder from the high rise view.

“Are you visiting family for the holidays?” The question was awkward at best but it drew his attention back to her. She wandered from the window to perch on the bed, hoping he would take the hint and sit beside her.

He did not. “Something like that.”

“You don’t want me to know anything about you?”  She tried to pose provocatively on the cushy comforter, but her hand slid forward and she scrambled to sit back up. Luckily he had not seen that, as he was hanging up his coat, that she had discarded on a chair.

“What’s to know?” He was still standing by closet, cufflinks abandoned but otherwise quite dressed.

 “Well then why did you bring me here?” This was no good. She was painfully hopeless at seduction.

He stepped closer now and propped his cane against the dresser, opposite the bed. “Because you asked me to.”

He sounded just as at a loss as she felt. She kicked off her shoes and walked over to where he stood. Do the brave thing, she reminded herself. He was still not much taller than her petite form but she had to tilt her head up as she got closer. “I thought it was because you were lonely.” She trailed both hands up his arms, and grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket. “You could have said no, if… that is… if you’re not… interested.”

Angus exhaled very slowly and when he spoke, his voice was a rough whisper. “Oh, aye. I’m interested. But you’ve been drinking.”

“So have you.” She pointed out, pushing his jacket off his shoulders until it fell to the ground behind them.  He continued to stand stock-still. “Don’t worry. I’m not so far gone that I don’t know my own mind.” He looked skeptical but said nothing.  She brought his hands to her waist and they gripped her lightly through the flimsy dress. “No one decides my actions but me. Not even Jack Daniels.”  The corner of his mouth quirked and his hands began to stroke her sides.

“What do you want, Lacey?”

She drew herself up on her tiptoes, bringing her lips to his ear and whispered. “Please take me to bed, Angus?”

The reaction was instantaneous and everything she could have hoped for. His large hands tightened their grip as his mouth came crashing down on hers. He explored her eagerly, firm kisses giving way to strokes of his tongue and she parted her lips to accept him. He tasted like whiskey and spices and she was happy to drown in his kisses alone when she felt him lifting the hem of her dress. Excitement shot through her, pooling between her legs and making her knees tremble.

For a moment he had stopped kissing her and the world felt just a little darker, but as he pulled the dress from her body the look in his eyes was well worth the temporary loss.

“My God. You’re… perfection.” His husky words made her breath catch and her fingers itch to bare him as well. He leaned on the desk where his cane was resting and lowered his head to kiss and nibble at her exposed skin. She fought through his delightfully distracting attentions to divest him of his shirt and trousers. The very obvious arousal tenting his black boxers gave him pause and he stopped once more to hide himself with one hand.

“No… I like seeing you… like this. Hard for me.” She breathed, pulling his hand away and sinking to her knees. She pulled his boxers down and extended her tongue to taste him. He groaned and stroked her hair, pulling the rest of the messy ponytail out of its holder. She went to take him in her mouth but he leaned down to grasp her shoulder.

“Lacey, please, I won’t last a second if you do that. And I intend this to last much longer than that.”

She rose. “Is that a promise?”

“Observation.” He asserted before pulling her back to him for a thorough kiss. He stepped out of the trousers and underwear pooled at his feet and took her hand. She noted that he limped a little without his cane but it was less pronounced as they walked slowly over to the bed. He urged her to sit on the bed and grabbed two pillows from the headboard. One he handed to her and the other he placed on the ground in front of him. As he lowered himself, Belle’s knees fell naturally apart. He fit just between them and leaned in to mouth at her through her lacey panties.

The heat on her soaking quim was blissful but she felt very exposed, like this. She had read about this in books, but Grayson found it unsanitary and so never attempted it.

Belle sat up slightly, leaning on her elbows. “You don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to.”

Angus looked up, confused. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Belle flushed even pinker than she thought possible. “If you don’t… like it.”

He gave another curious look before pulling her panties swiftly from her body. Without another word, he ran his tongue along her swollen cleft, swirling it at the top before dipping further down. The sensation was nearly overwhelming (and a little tickling). Belle found herself making noises she did not even recognize. All she knew was hot and wet and rolling through her in waves of intense pleasure. She was clutching at Angus’s hair and bucking her hips into him uncontrollably when he inserted a finger and curled it upward and her world came apart.

Panting, Belle lay boneless against the downy comforter. “Oh. My. God.”

“Not last I checked, but I appreciate the comparison.” Angus crawled onto the bed beside her, favoring his good leg.

She giggled and covered her mouth. “You are amazing.”

“And you are delicious.” He propped himself up on one arm and cupped one breast with his other hand., bringing his lips down to press a gentle kiss to the taut, pink nipple. She pulled his face up to hers and kissed him hard. She could taste herself on his lips and it occurred to her that perhaps Grayson ought to pull that stick out of his ass because she was goddamned delicious.

Angus’s hands were still in motion and her body thrummed with anticipation. She could feel him harder than steel against her hip, leaking just a little at the tip. Angus was turned on by her release! His fingers sought her out once more, teasing her adroitly before plunging in. She rode his hand with aplomb, no longer self-conscious. He brought her to that screaming, thrashing peak twice more by hand before she was practically begging him to enter her.

Luckily, one of them managed to find a condom. She would never remember which one. It didn’t matter. He fit inside of her perfectly. Grayson was not small but he never made much effort to find angles other than the ones he liked. Angus shifted both of their hips in increments until she was clutching at him and dragging her nails down his back. He sought a rhythm that made her howl through the rafters. With his mouth at her neck and one hand at her clit, it was not long before she was seeing stars. He followed shortly after, groaning into her shoulder and burying himself as deeply as he could within her.

They were both sweaty and exhausted by the time they rolled under the covers. He turned out the lamp but the lights of the city kept the room in shadowy contrast. Belle rolled to her side, her legs still shaking. The realization that she would never see this man again had been exciting in the beginning but now it felt like a curse. She was certain they would have nothing in common outside of the bedroom, but any man who could read her body like that… But Belle had to go back to her perfect life, after tonight. She had to take the right job and wear the right clothes. She had to marry the right man. Rumor had it that Grayson had already asked her father for her hand. The thought made her shudder.

Angus pulled her into his chest, probably thinking she was cold. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to imagine what life could have been if she wasn’t so concerned with being “right”.


	4. Rocking Around the Christmas Tree...

Grayson turned out to be one of the most mind-numbingly dull individuals Angus had ever had the misfortune to meet. Admittedly, Angus was half in the bag by now and perhaps a little biased. Moe and Grayson carried on about various sports teams, occasionally pausing to ascertain that Angus fully agreed with their emphatic opinions. He would stolidly supply a vague reply that temporarily satisfied them. This dance continued for several minutes until the next guest arrived.

After that it was a torrent of finery and frippery worn by some of the most influential faces on the East Coast. A brigade of well-uniformed attendants emerged from the kitchen armed with trays full of hors d'oeuvres or glasses of wine and champagne. The conversation rose to a fevered pitch and Angus was soon lost in a sea of inane prattle.

Belle had emerged at some point or another, fully coifed, but disappeared into the crowd. The longer he spent looking for her, the more intense the press of foreign bodies seemed to become. He would catch a glimpse of her from across the room or a peal of her laughter two conversations over. Yet each time he had made his way in the correct direction, she had vanished. It occurred to him that she may well be avoiding him, but he would have none of it. The woman had lied to him and he wanted to know why.

He thanked his sharp vision when he caught the tail of her dress rising back up the stairs. It was easy enough to follow her up. The upstairs was not open to the party and so completely deserted. The hum from below did not fully drown out the tapping of her Louboutin shoes. When he found her, she was leaning over a wooden dresser and rummaging in one of the drawers.

“Belle.”

She jumped and pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh! Oh, Mr…. Gold was it?” If you’re looking for the washroom, it’s downstairs.” She gestured toward the staircase a little unsteadily. Her eyes did not meet his.

He approached her slowly, feeling slightly predatory and not minding in the slightest. “I’m aware of that, Belle. Or should I call you Lacey, again? You were much more… responsive under that title.”

Belle’s mouth twisted and she exhaled noisily, dropping the charade. “You know very well who I am, by now.”

“You left before I could find out.”

She shrugged. “That was the idea.”

“Do you pick up strange men in bars all the time?” He threw her own question back at her.

Her lovely face flushed a deep red and her reply was hoarse. “No! I don’t usually… In fact, I’ve never… done anything like that before.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he enjoyed keeping her so off-balance. “It certainly didn’t seem that way.”

She tilted her head back and finally met his gaze squarely. “Look, if you’re going to tell Grayson, just go ahead and do it. Just… please don’t tell my father about it, ok? He… doesn’t need to know that his little girl… wanted to be a _bad girl_ for once in her life.” 

She was not backing down in the way he had anticipated. The woman had some backbone in her, to be certain. Why that realization made his trousers just a little tighter, he would have to puzzle out later.

“You did an admirable job of it.”

She laughed wryly. “You saw through me in 10 seconds. A little lost lamb I think you called me?”

“Aye, but the rest of your admirers didn’t. You could have been in there every weekend hustling pool for all they knew.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t go home with any of _them_ , did I?” She leaned back against the dresser and crossed her arms. Her gaze slid slowly down his body before returning to his face. Her tongue dipped out to wet her lips and he shivered at the sight.

 _The little minx!_ She had the audacity to try and seduce him in her father’s house, with a roomful of people – including her significant other – one floor below. He moved closer and lowered his voice to a growl. “You play dangerous games, girl.”

“Belle.” She corrected firmly. “So at least you can moan the right name, this time.” She blushed as she said it, her eyes widening slightly. She was surprised at her own audacity it seemed, and he found that… stimulating.

The hand not holding his cane reached for her gown and fisted the fabric, pulling her closer. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to run or to stay. His pulse was pounding erratically and there would soon be no disguising his very male reaction to her proximity. Her arms unfolded, hands sliding under his jacket to clutch at his arse. Instinctually, he shunted his lower body until Belle was pinned between the dresser and his hips. She did not seem to mind, releasing a throaty sound and bringing one hand up to bury it in his hair.

They were both beginning to breathe heavily and he struggled to maintain his composure.

He didn’t trust this.

He _couldn’t_ trust this.

Women like Belle did not seduce men like him, especially not with so much to lose. A one night stand he could understand – no one got hurt if no one found out. But here and now, that was a risk. She had to have a reason. His mind raced with every possible angle she could be playing until he hit upon the one that made the most sense.

Just as she was leaning up to brush her lips to his, he pulled back. He pushed her away from him none too gently.

“What’s wrong?”

He scowled at her. “I am not your toy. If you want to prove to Daddy that you’re all grown up, you do it on your own time.”

Her mouth fell open. “Wha? No, I didn’t mean…. I’m not…”

He interrupted her briskly. “Don’t think you can play me for a fool. I’m not Grayson.” He sneered as he said the name. “I’m here to complete a business deal and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I have no intention of meddling in Moe’s family affairs for your own personal amusement.”

Her eyes were flashing with anger as she brought her hands to her hips. “Bull. Shit. Angus, you know perfectly well that I didn’t know who you were the other night. Do you think if I just wanted an affair with one of my father’s friends that it would be even remotely difficult? They have been staring at my ass and making suggestive jokes since I was 15! I like YOU. I like the way you treated me and the way you didn’t talk down to me – until now! I like that you dropped $100 on a stranger’s bar tab so that she wouldn’t have to fight off creepy men. When I first went to work for my father, you were the only one who didn’t make me endlessly prove my competence. Now that I know what it’s like to be the woman in your bed, I WANT you! Why is that so difficult to believe?”

The rage was building inside of him, roiling like an ocean of fire. “Because it’s not about me! No ever wants ME. They want what I can do for them, what I can offer them and what I can pay for, for them. Why should you be any different? You told me yourself, you just wanted to be a bad girl for once. Well congratulations. You’ve played that part to the hilt and I was all but ready to believe you. However, you underestimated one thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your ability to self-pity?”

He glared and drew back into her personal space. “My work means more to me than you do.”

She swallowed hard. “Fuck you, Angus.”

He drew a breath to respond but they were interrupted by a man’s voice calling Belle by name.

“Shit.” She whispered, one hand flying to cover his mouth, the other pulling him further away from the doorway with her. “Papa must have sent Grayson looking for me.”

Angus peeled her hand away from his mouth and whispered back “Not so brave now, are we?”

She pressed her lips together thinly. “Shut up, will you?”

Grayson’s voice carried from down the hall. “Sweetheart? You’re father wants to make the announcement. You ought to be there for it.” He chuckled. “You’re kind of a big part of it, you know.”

Angus looked at her curiously. “Should there be a ring on your finger?” He murmured, stealing a glance at her very bare left hand.

Belle followed his gaze and grimaced. “Not that kind of announcement.” She sighed silently, but he caught the motion of her shoulders in the dim light. “Look, Angus, you ought to know…”

“Belle?” Grayson was at the doorway of the room, now. Belle quickly shoved Angus to the other side of the dresser and emerged into the light. He just barely maintained his balance, his leg screaming in protest.

“Grayson? Oh, I’m so sorry… I found an old book in the drawer and I just got so involved in it I lost all track of time. I’ll be right down, ok?”

“Tsk tsk, turtledove… we can’t have you losing your pretty head in some silly novel again before Moe’s big announcement, can we? Come on, I’ll walk you back down.”

Belle made a few more muted sounds of protest before he could hear her heels clicking out of the room.

Angus emerged from behind the dresser, feeling utterly ridiculous. It wouldn’t have done for him to be seen alone with his business partner’s daughter in what appeared to be a bedroom. But there was some part of him that wished Grayson had found them. He grudgingly made a mental note to thank Belle for her discretion – providing he ever saw her again after tonight. As usual, he had let his temper and his natural suspicions (more acute than ever after Regina’s betrayal) get the better of him.

Perhaps Belle had genuinely enjoyed their time together as much as he had and only wanted more of the same. It seemed damn near impossible, but he supposed stranger things had happened. It didn’t matter now, at any rate. Belle would be just another in a long list of apologies owed. He composed himself in a nearby mirror before heading as quietly down the stairs as he possibly could.

Moe’s baritone dominated the parlor by the time Angus reached it. Belle was standing at her father’s side as he commanded the attention of the room. Moe spotted him at the back and gestured grandly.

“And here’s the man of the hour! So glad you’re still here, Gold. Was certain you had slipped out by now.” He directed his attention to the crowd. “Mr. Gold is not much for parties.” He bellowed a laugh that smelled like Scotch even from accross the room. His nose was quite red and his beefy hands shook slightly, but Moe was a happy drunk and Gold could not begrudge him.

“Mr. French, I was just on my way out when I heard you had an announcement to make.”

“Please, come here, Gold. This will involve you too, in a way.”

Gold narrowed his eyes but approached cautiously. People moved out of his way as he did so. Obviously his reputation preceded him, even here in Boston. Belle was purposely not looking at him and that fact rankled him more than he would have liked. “Well?”

Moe beamed around the room proudly. “The time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things. And by that, I mean, I’m starting to think about retirement, my dear friends. As such, my lovely and intelligent daughter will be taking over a great deal of my holdings both here and in New York. As of next week, Belle will be in charge of all of the interactions with Gold Industries Inc and FTL Industries. She will be splitting her time between Boston and New York – industrious girl that she is! Grayson has kindly agreed to part with her at least 2 weeks out of every month, so that she can smooth the transition over directly. So, I’d like to dedicate this lovely evening to my wonderful daughter, the joy of my heart and light of my life.” He raised his glass. “To Belle!”

Angus raised his glass stiffly, still absorbing the shock of the news. One of his biggest deals of the year was now going to be run by the woman he had just insulted and rejected. Two weeks out of every month, Belle would be on his home turf. Temptation and terror choked him in equal measure. He downed the drink in his hand and pressed the button on his phone that would call his driver.

The throng of people congratulating Moe and Belle was too tightly knit to push through even if he had wished to make his farewells. Instead, he sought Marcia and retrieved his coat. The woman fussed over him and insisted on placing a gift bag in his hand as he left.

“Calling it an early night, Mr. Gold?”

“Yes, thank you. I have an early flight home.”

She helped him into the coat. “Well, have a Merry Christmas, sir and may the New Year bring you joy!”

He scoffed to himself. The New Year was bringing him something, alright. It just didn’t look a whole hell of a lot like joy. 


	5. Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot...

The flight to New York was uneventful and for that Belle was considerably grateful. She had enough on her mind as it was. One night of rebellion. One measly little indiscretion and look at where _that_ had gotten her. She exhaled noisily and glanced out the window of the taxi. It was grey and drizzling outside, which did not improve her mood in the slightest.

Grayson had dropped her at the airport, extracting a promise that she would call as soon as she landed. She pulled out her phone and saw three missed calls. Two were from Grayson and the third was her father. 3 new voicemails. She resisted the urge to delete them automatically.

Belle loved her father very much. After her mother had passed, he was the only family she ever knew. He doted upon her in many ways but he was also very demanding in return. Nothing but an Ivy League school would satisfy him. When she had expressed an interest in a Creative Writing degree, he had barely spoken to her for three days. So, she had gone to Harvard and eventually obtained a Master’s Degree in Business Administration. Papa could not have been happier. He told her constantly that hers was too fine a mind to waste on whimsy. She wished that she could believe that as whole heartedly as he did.

Thinking about Papa back home in Boston made her heart twinge just a little. It was only two weeks but it was the longest they had been apart since her semester abroad back in undergrad. He had arranged for a lovely long-stay hotel room for her in the city. She would be walking distance from Gold Industries Inc.

Gold.

That name had been familiar to her since high school days. When Moe moved the business and the family from Australia to America, Gold had been one of the first to approach him. Mr. Gold kept a keen eye on the foreign market, it seemed. He told Moe that he could recognize an up and coming opportunity. She’d never met Gold – Angus – or even spoken to him on the phone, but they had been exchanging emails nearly half her life. Angus was only aware of the work she had done in the last 5 years, but she had been an undersecretary long before that.

Despite coming from family money, Moe had a very strong work ethic that he had made sure to instill in Belle all her life. She had household chores from the time she could walk. She acted as an errand girl for the company during her days off from school. Once her Bachelor’s degree was complete, Moe had finally allowed her to take on a title and to sign her work with her own name. She still had the plaque from her first desk, in a memory box beneath her bed.

When she had been assigned the biggest task of her career with Gold in New York and FTL back home, she was ecstatic. And also terrified. But mostly ecstatic. Papa had seen what she could truly do and he was putting so much faith in her. She had easily won over Archie, the head of FTL Industries, when they fell to discussing his beloved Dalmatian. She had been so excited to meet the infamous Mr. Gold. And then… oh dear….

Well, meeting him _had_ been exciting, she reasoned, though certainly not in the way she expected. A tingle travelled through her in remembrance. It made sense, in a way, that a man known to be so thorough would carry such attention to detail over to the bedroom. He’d unfurled her so easily it was almost laughable. And then he had proceeded to insult her and reject her in her childhood bedroom.

She had no idea what he must think of her now but the thought of having to work with him so closely for two weeks out of every month turned her stomach to knots and her knees to jelly. She’d never been so utterly confused.

Her phone buzzed again, jolting her from her musing.

Grayson. Of course.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, how’s my girl?” He sounded half asleep.

“I’m fine. The flight was on time and really short. I was gonna call you and Dad once I got settled in the room.”

“Where are you now?”

“The cab. We’re not far from the hotel, but you know, it’s New York traffic. If I didn’t have bags and it wasn’t cold and rainy, I would’ve walked or taken the train.” She surveyed the dismal, pedestrian filled sidewalks. Umbrellas and suitcases as far as the eye could see.

“Aw don’t do that, baby. You could hurt yourself or get mugged or something. Just take cabs in the City, ok?”

“It’s Manhattan in the middle of the day. I think, worst case scenario, I’d end up soggy.”

“Belle, baby, I said don’t do it, ok?” He was getting that irritated edge he got to his voice lately whenever she disagreed with him.

She bit back a sigh. “Yeah, ok. I won’t.”

“There’s a smart girl. Miss you already.”

“You too.”

“Kisses.” He made a lip smacking noise and she held the phone slightly further away.

“You too.” And the line was dead.

She tried to remember all the things about Grayson that had initially brought them together. As she got older (and wiser?) it was getting harder and harder to remember.

Grayson had been the first man to really pursue her. She’d had no time for dating at all in high school. Not that anyone really noticed her , sitting quietly at lunch with her nose in a book. There had been a boyfriend or two in college, but nothing more than a few kisses and that one guy who wouldn’t stop touching her butt – that is, until she tasered him. He stopped after that.

But Grayson had courted her like a gentleman. He brought her flowers and read her poetry. He took her to fine restaurants and classical music concerts. Papa absolutely adored him. He was kind to her, if a little condescending at times. He was never abusive or rough. Other girls of her acquaintance mooned over him, openly. Belle felt like a deviant for not being head over heels in love with the man.

The fact was… he bored her. He didn’t ever read for pleasure. He never expressed an opinion that wasn’t paraphrased from a newspaper or article. He wasn't faithful (which didn't bother her nearly as much as it probably should have). He was exceedingly good-looking but he knew it a little too well and always spent longer getting ready than she did. Then he’d casually joke about how all of her “primping” had made them late. Certainly they had some similar tastes in music and theatre and he was surprisingly fun on Game Night. He could occasionally make her laugh, although only when he wasn’t trying.

The cab pulled to a stop and she looked up the length of an impossibly high building. Home sweet home. For two weeks at a time. It was a slate building with an awning that was edged in lights. 

"Here you go, Miss. St. Regis Hotel. Best in town. Would you like a hand with your bags?" The grey haired cabbie half turned in his seat. 

"I think I'll be alright, but thank you." She paid the fare and included a generous tip. He had left her alone with her thoughts, which is really all she could have asked for at this particular time. 

She pulled her coat close around her ears and grabbed her bags. A concierge gathered her into the lobby where she checked in quickly. As soon as she reached the room, she collapsed onto the bed. A quick call to check in with Papa and she was free to figure out her next move. 

 Tomorrow was her first day at the new office. 

With Angus. 

She needed a glass of wine.  And a long, hot bath. 


	6. I've Got You Under My Skin...

Angus was inordinately grateful when the holiday season passed. The ball dropped on TV as he drifted off to a fuzzy, whiskey-induced slumber. The next day, he had been the only one in the office. Not being a total beast, he had offered the option of holiday pay or a day off. It was no surprise to him which one his workers took. Admittedly, Kathy Shue had come in for a few hours. With 9 children at home, she needed the extra money. However, he’d been enjoying the solitude so much that he sent her home with the promise of a full day’s pay.

The office was blissfully quiet. He made himself a cup of tea and watched the clouds move as he contemplated his next few deals. Moe’s holdings with FTL Industries were exactly the kick he’d needed to turn things around. He hated compromising, but he’d worded the contract very carefully. If they all played their cards correctly, all three companies would flourish, and his would be back on top in no time.

 He’d started with very little, a poor lad living on the streets of Glasgow. A sharp wit and sharper temper had only taken him so far until he learned how to play the game. It was all about wordplay, contracts, deals. You didn’t need to know what the people wanted, just how to tell them that they wanted what you _had_.

Mark Zoso, a con man with a thriving legitimate business on the side, had discovered Angus back in Scotland, hocking cheap goods to make his rent. Zoso recognized the ambition in Angus, that drive to reach the top – with very little concern for exactly how he got there. With no family to inherit the business, Zoso had taken Angus under his wing.

Under Zoso’s tutelage, Angus had done things he wasn’t proud of. They eventually escaped to America. The name Gold was as yet untainted there, so they set up everything under that. With the ill-gained capital, they began to make quite a good show of it. Then one day, Angus discovered that Zoso had been secretly gathering evidence that would paint him as the mastermind behind some of their earliest plots. With Angus out of the way, Zoso would be free to take over everything they had built.

Despite the betrayal, it was with a heavy heart that Angus turned Zoso over to the authorities. Luckily for him, his greater knowledge of technology had wiped his own slate pretty clean, leaving Zoso to pay for his crimes alone. Back in Scotland, he was wanted on a few counts, but nothing they could make stick. He didn't fear extradition, but he couldn't take the chance of returning, either. 

Zoso never even made it to the sentencing. He died of a heart attack while still in custody. Angus was the only one at his funeral.

Angus rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. He had not given Zoso much consideration in recent years. This business with Regina Mills brought back the memories a little too vividly. He supposed it was fortunate for him that Zoso’s behavior had taught him never to let anyone in completely; otherwise, Regina might have done far greater damage. She had been an excellent protégée in her time. She was bright, charismatic, and a very quick learner. She had gone from an intern to his top assistant in less than a year. Before long, he was bringing her to meetings for more than just notation. She had a way with people, especially those of a male persuasion. He was scrupulous in his own dealings these days, but not above trading on a few of Regina’s wiles to pre-empt negotiations.

Regina’s mother, Cora Hart had been very similar when they worked together.

He shook his head. He did NOT want to think about _her_ right now.

His tea was getting cold and he frowned down into it. His track record with romance was not exactly exemplary. One divorce and a love affair turned sour followed by years of one night stands and the occasional wide eyed floozy who thought she could earn her stripes as a trophy wife. He always felt worse after a fling like that, but he still had itches to scratch, after all. They were well rewarded for their efforts – fine dining, Broadway shows, etc. His driver, Dove, had gotten very adept at letting them down easily once Angus could no longer pretend not to see the greed behind their simpering smiles.

Lacey – _Belle_ – had intrigued him that night in Boston. Her over the top play-acting was oddly endearing. She walked like a newborn foal in her platform shoes and tugged incessantly at the hem of her tiny dress. Angus prided himself on reading people, even from a distance. “Lacey” had seemed completely guileless and there was a protective instinct that rose to the surface when he was faced with her unwittingly chosen options.

Even now, still unsure if it had been an act for his benefit or just one of desperation, he itched to wrap his arms around her. She might have let him until he went about losing his temper in front of her. He had royally fucked up that one, hadn’t he? It was uncomfortable, feeling this conflicted about the woman who was shortly to be his new co-worker. He still held a higher position than her, this being his company, but they would be in close quarters. It would be very distracting imagining her on her back while trying to work shoulder to shoulder. It would be so easy to push her up against a filing cabinet… or onto his desk. His leg would give him hell, but it would be worth it for her sweet mouth and tight heat.

He shifted in his chair, the images in his mind now sending waves of pleasure straight to his groin. He considered taking himself in hand, but it felt like crossing a line.

A distraction. That was exactly what he needed.

He limped to the cabinet without his cane, using the pain to ground himself, and grabbed a few files. Regina had joined the Hart Corporation with her mother and Angus could be certain they did not mean to do him any good.

They had each worked together long enough to know how the other’s mind worked. This was not a game of cat and mouse, but rather two lionesses trying to undermine a wily jackal.

He was no king of beasts, but in a game of wits he was rarely to be matched. Oh, the fur would fly. He would make sure of that. But he would be far from the battleground when it did. 


	7. Getting to Know All About You....

Mr. Gold was in a teleconference when she arrived at the office. A friendly receptionist with a head full of springy dark curls introduced herself as Goldie and offered Belle oatmeal cookies. Belle, having been too nervous to eat breakfast, agreed to take one for later. Goldie smiled and agreed to lead her to the desk of David Prince, Gold’s current personal assistant.

“David’s been here for ages.” Goldie relayed, with a broad motion to follow.

“Yes, I think I’ve spoken to him a number of times. I’m afraid I don’t remember speaking with you, before. I do apologize.”

Goldie smiled. “Oh no, don’t worry. I’m pretty new. I like it so far, but I’ve had a tendency to flit from job to job, over the years. They never feel just right, you know?”

Belle nodded sympathetically. “Sure, it’s important to do something you care about.”

Goldie paused her steps and looked over Belle with a curious tilt of her head. “Girl, I like you, but they are gonna eat you alive in here if you are always this sweet….”

“Don’t worry.” Belle dropped her voice to a conspiratorially whisper. “My bite is worse than my bark.”

Goldie gave a whoop of laughter that drew a few glances from surrounding desks. “Alright then!” She continued walking, beckoning Belle to do the same. “You’ll do just fine. Mr. Gold could use someone to put up a little fight now and then.” She winked.

They rounded a corner and at a large oak desk there was a blonde haired, blue eyed man with a Bluetooth in one ear, talking rapidly. Goldie told Belle to wait there and returned to her station at the front of the building. David gestured for her to come closer.

“Yah, Das ist gut. Nein. Ich rufe Sie. Danke.” He pressed a button on the headset and removed it, flashing Belle a dazzling smile. “So sorry about that. The German market was almost closed for the day.”

“Oh, no problem.”

He extended a hand and she took it. “I’m David Prince. Please call me David. I’ll show you around for the next few days, or until you feel comfortable. Did Goldie offer you a cookie, already?”

Belled smiled and showed him the cookie she had wrapped in a tissue and stuffed into her purse.

“Excellent. Goldie is an incomparable baker. She’s been here less than a month and I think I’ve already put on ten lbs!” He gave her that easy smile again and Belle was charmed, despite herself. There was something disarmingly kind in his demeanor. It seemed incompatible with what she knew of Gold as a businessman, but then again, it made sense that he would surround himself with people who possessed the social skills he so obviously lacked.

_Stop it, Belle!_ She chided herself mentally. Thinking ill of Angus was not going to get her anywhere if they were to continue in a working environment.

True to his word, David took her to each desk and made an introduction. Her head was swimming with new information by the time they stopped at the office adjacent to Mr. Gold’s. In contrast to Mr. Gold’s door, this one stood wide open. The shades were drawn to reveal a tastefully decorated room with a white desk and a few Mary Cassatt prints on the walls. A woman with cropped dark hair was bent over a notepad when David wrapped on the door frame.

The woman raised her head and her face lit up. “David! Oh and this must be our new addition!” She rose and walked around the desk to shake Belle’s hand. “I’m Mary Margaret, but feel free to call me MM. Or hey you, in a pinch.” She grinned.

“Or the most beautiful, courageous, and intelligent creature on earth, as I like to call her.” David added, from over Belle’s shoulder.

Mary Margaret blushed and looked at Belle. “He’s just saying that because I finally agreed to marry him.”

“Oh! Congratulations!” Belle looked between them. They were a decidedly handsome couple and gazed at one another affectionately.

“Well, that is if this one can stop making goo-goo eyes at me long enough to get back to his desk. That wedding ain’t gonna pay for itself!” Mary Margaret made a shooing motion toward David.

David turned back to Belle. “Mary Margaret is the Head of Human Resources. You’ll be here filling out paperwork and signing away your first born child for the next few hours.”

Mary Margaret playfully slapped David’s shoulder. “Oh stop, Gold hardly ever puts _that_ in the contracts anymore. Now get on out of here. I’ll see you at lunch.”

David blew a kiss and departed. For just a moment, Belle could almost picture their entire office romance and her heart twinged a little.

“All right, Belle – Do you mind if I call you Belle? I can go with Miss French, I’m just not used to being very formal.” Mary Margaret stepped back around her desk and took a seat.

Belle sat opposite her. “Belle is fine.”

They went over all the forms quickly as Belle had been emailed the lot as a PDF before she left Boston. She signed the appropriate places, still skimming for even the slightest change from the copies she had.

When they were done, Mary Margaret nodded approvingly. “You’re thorough. He’ll like that.”

“Gold?” It was hardly a question but Mary Margaret nodded again. “Can I ask… that is, do you mind if I ask what it’s like to work with him? We’ve really only ever emailed.”

Mary Margaret’s mouth twisted to the side as she cast her eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling. “It’s kind of like… being in a cage with a tamed lion. He’s pretty docile as long as you don’t do anything to upset him.”

Belle’s eyes widened considerably and Mary Margaret laughed.

“No no, I didn’t mean it like that. Oh, look at me, scaring you away already… Gold is a difficult man to love, but a fair boss. He listens to everyone, no matter how small their concern and he’s usually willing to lend a hand, for the right price. Just… always read the fine print.”

Belle solemnly nodded her understanding. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me.”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “Of course, dear. I’m not a good liar anyway.” She laughed again. “Ok well, I’m gonna send you back to David to get you all situated. If you have any other questions or just need to talk at some point, my door is always open.”

Belle thanked her again and found her way back to David’s desk. He was not there, but Mr. Gold’s door was ajar and she could hear voices on the other side of it. Angus’s brogue was prominent as he was apparently quite heated about the subject matter.

She drew closer, curiosity getting the better of her. Gold was on his feet, gesticulating wildly with the hand not holding his cane. David’s back was to her, but he appeared to be taking notes.

“…not a fucking charity!” Angus finished emphatically, slapping his free hand down on the desk. He drew a breath to continue before spotting her on the other side. “Miss French.”

“Oh um, I was just looking for David. Unless you have… something we should be working on.”

His mouth quirked “No, Miss French. I have no need of you.”

Belle was barely aware how sharply she inhaled at the implication in his words. David turned to face her, an apology in his eyes but Angus continued smoothly.

“Not today, anyway. Not to worry, dear, I’ll have plenty for you to do in the days to come. Take today to get acquainted with the office.” He flicked his gaze to David. “You’re dismissed, Prince. Have Ms. Nova walk Miss French through the filing system.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold.” David strode out and motioned his head for Belle to walk with him. She could feel Angus’s eyes on her until they turned the corner.

“First time meeting Gold?” David asked gently, once they were out of earshot.

Belle swallowed. “No, uh, we’ve met. Once or twice before.”

David shrugged. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him. I mean, if you can bear to stick around that long. He just… doesn’t always think before he talks. He’ll never steer you wrong with a stock tip, though. I’ll say that for him.”

Belle gave a dry chuckle. “That sounds like high praise.”

“In New York?” David raised his eyebrows. “Oh, it’s the highest.”

She felt the tension abate in the light of David’s easy charm. “So, what else do I get to learn today?”

“Love the enthusiasm!” He led her down the hall to another closed door that was marked **FILE ROOM** , and knocked.

There was a clatter and someone on the other side cursed quietly. “Yeah, um just a minute!”

David looked down at Belle. “You’re gonna like Astrid. Everyone does.”  

 


	8. And I've never seen anyone quite like you before

He had managed to avoid Belle for three whole days, so far. When she came tripping to his door with her cerulean eyes and her pretty pink temptation of a mouth, he sent her off with David or Astrid or once with Graham, who head up the security department. That last one had been a stretch, but he reasoned that every new employee should be up to date on fire drill procedures.

Of course, she wasn’t his employee. And he couldn’t put off the inevitable.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Belle was in his doorway, leaning her hip against the jamb. He cursed himself for being too buried in his work to hear her approach and then took a moment to appreciate her silhouette, glancing from under his lashes. He was relatively certain that if they’d had a dress code beyond the generic “Business attire”, skirts that short would not have been allowed. Briefly, he thanked his past self for never instating a specific dress code.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He replied at last, forcing his expression into one of nonchalance. “I’m a very busy man.”

She scoffed and he looked up long enough to raise an eyebrow at her. Apparently she took this as invitation enough and crossed the room to his desk, hands on her hips. “I now know every fire exit, HR policy, Filing system, safety policy, and cookie recipe this office has to offer. I’m here to work, Mr. Gold. If you won’t let me do that I don’t know how you expect this deal to be beneficial to either party.”

He bristled at the return to using his surname. “If you can’t find enough to occupy your time, perhaps it would be better spent in Boston.”

She placed her hands flat on his desk, leaning over, and he blessed (cursed?) whatever tailor invented the neckline of her blouse, as it dipped forward with her. “While I’m sure that would make life easier for both of us, I take my work just as seriously as you do and I’m assigned to be here until mid-month.” When he did not respond, she must have decided on a different tactic. She came around the side of the desk and pulled herself, half-sitting onto it. Her delicate fingers over-laced across one knee. “Mr. Gold,” She began again, more gently this time. “We are wasting time on this… whatever it was that happened over the holidays. I’m only here to do what needs to be done. We don’t have to take tea and make nice but we do have to get some work done, right? I mean, I know you’re not about to sacrifice profit over a silly misunderstanding between us."

Damn her.

She had him, there. There was plenty to be done these past few days but processing everything from the merger with French’s company was still on a timeline. He knew very well that he was being petty and avoidant – not that he would ever admit that to her. So, he took what seemed like the path of least resistance.

“Miss French, you are quite right about the work that needs to be done. I apologize for being so remiss. There has been a great deal of business for me to attend to since the Holidays, but I see that my diligence has been needed elsewhere. If you are ready to begin, I would like to have a meeting about next year’s projections immediately after lunch. Please let David know to check with Ms. Fa’s calendar.”

Belle slid to her feet with a small smile of triumph. “Yes, Mr. Gold. Thank you very much.”

“Yes, well. I appreciate your candor. I will see you at 1pm.” 

She nodded and walked to the door.

“Oh, and Miss French?”

“Sir?” She half turned.

“Please do not sit on my desk, again. It cost more than half your college education.”

He looked away before he could catch the full brunt of her glare, but there was a sense of satisfaction he took from the way she shut his door with a little more force than was necessary.

He turned his attention back to the file on his desk with some effort.

A case against Regina was practically building itself. Cora covered her tracks better, so she was a little harder to pin down. But he’d done that once, he could certainly do it again – though he’d prefer to be a little more hands-off on this go-round. If nothing else, he could go after her for insider trading, but Regina’s little friend Sydney had taken the fall for that last time, there was bound to be another Patsy in their pocket.

He yawned and buzzed David to bring him a cup of black tea. A little caffeine would do him a world of good. He had slept very little last night. Or for the past 30 years or so. There was just never enough time in the day.

David brought in the steaming cup and a copy of The Economist.

“Mr. Gold…. I thought you might like to see this.” He laid out the magazine and flipped open the pages, turning it to face Angus at a particular article.

 

 

**_Hart Corporation takeover bid for FTL Industries flouted by Gold Industries Inc._ **

 

Angus’s lip curled up. “Thank you, Mr. Prince, but I believe I was already aware of this.”

“Um, keep reading, sir.”

His eyes skimmed the page. “Regina Mills and her mother Cora Hart…” the names were bitter on his tongue. “Charity auction…. Legal fees…. Contesting the contract?” He looked back up at David’s earnest face. “They have to be joking.”

David shook his head. “They are trying to prove that Moe French and the COO of FTL made a deal with them first and that you snaked it out from under them.” He shrugged. “Even if that were the case, the contract you have is legally binding and Moe’s been your client for years now. I can’t see how…”

“Enough, David.” The words were quiet but bitten off sharply. Angus sneered blackly at the page. “Please send in Miss French.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold.” David exited quickly.

A few minutes later, Angus could hear the whisper of Belle’s chiffon skirt as she approached his desk. He did not look up.  “Miss French.”

“Mr. Gold.” Her voice rivaled his for chilliness. “You sent for me.”

“Obviously.” He pushed the offending article toward him. “Is there something you or your father forgot to mention during our most recent negotiations?”

She grabbed it from the desk and looked it with a quizzical expression. “This… is ridiculous. Who on earth told them this?”

He steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m certain I don’t know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say to me, Gold?” When he didn’t answer, she deposited the magazine on the desk and placed her hands on the top, as she had earlier.

He took a long, deep breath, never breaking eye contact, and pulled himself to his feet. His cane was propped against a drawer, but he could brace his hands on the desk for support.

She continued. “All negotiations between my father and yourself were on the level. Regina is obviously trying to discredit you.” She shifted further forward and lowered her voice. “Frankly, I’m surprised to see you taken in by so obvious a ploy.”

She was baiting him and he could tell. Unfortunately, between the intensity of her blue eyes and that inviting dip in her blouse, his temper was not the only thing rising to the occasion. He was glad the desk hit him at hip level as he leaned in toward her.  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you, Belle?” His voice was barely above a whisper and it had dropped almost effortlessly into his deepest register.

Belle’s lower lip trembled and her pupils dilated slightly.

_Quid pro quo_ , he thought smugly.

She pursed her lips and shifted even closer, her eyes half lidded. He could feel her breath on his lips. “Only when you ask the right questions.”

He felt his own eyes slipping closed, his lips poised to traverse the distance between them when there was a blaring buzzing  sound that made them both jump and straighten up.

“Mr. Gold, it’s Mr. Booth on line 1” Goldie’s cheery voice filled the awkward silence.

“Send it to voicemail.”

“I tried but he’s called back 6 times today. He said he’s going to keep trying until you talk to him.”

“Fine, I’ll pick up in a minute.” He swore soundly and Belle looked flushed but amused.

She gestured to the phone. “Hmm, oh that’s probably important. I’ll… I’ll get out of your hair now.” She backed away, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She managed to catch herself on a table by the door. With a coy smile, shot over one shoulder, she was gone.

Mr. Booth was not worthy of a friendly greeting after the scam he tried to pull that lost him his job at Gold Industries in the first place. He had managed to make himself useful in some capacities, skilled liar that he was, so Gold made certain allowances. Today, however, Booth was in for an earful of venom.

Booth would wish he’d never learned to dial a phone. 


	9. No, I've never met anyone quite like you before

Well, that had been…. an unexpected turn of events.

Belle slumped into her chair, completely ignoring the 10 flagged emails in her inbox and the blinking light of her voicemail.

In the course of less than an hour, she had gone from being convinced that Angus was breeding enmity between them to nearly snogging him across his desk. It wasn’t in her nature to think of anyone as an enemy without very good reason, but Angus had shown determination to scale that wall. Of course, it only made things infinitely more difficult that she knew that sharp tongue of his was capable of so much more than petty cruelty.

It was nearly impossible to look him in the eye without remembering that he knew what she tasted like. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Great idea, getting aroused at work, she thought. Not that Angus would probably mind. Perhaps he would even lend a hand….

_Stop it, Belle_! She shook her head as if she could clear it like an etch-a-sketch. She had a meeting with the head of Finance at 1 and lunch with Chief Security Officer Graham and Ruby, the head of Public Relations, before that. The pulsing heat between her legs would have to wait until she could relieve it at home.

She applied herself diligently to the task of being the absolute best at her job. That was familiar enough to erase everything around her for a few hours. By the time Ruby was tapping a staccato on her door, she was shocked to see 2 hours had passed.

“Ready, B?” Ruby placed a well-manicured hand on her hip. Her red nails flashed in stark contrast with her dark pencil skirt.

“Just about.”  She pressed send on her current email and grabbed her purse. “Where to?”

Ruby grabbed her hand loosely and pulled her along. “Well, since you’ve got to be back at 1 on the dot, I thought we’d just go downstairs. Granny’s Diner is right outside. Gold owns it, so we get a discount.”

“He does?” Belle knew Angus owned quite a bit of property, she just wasn’t clear on the specifics, as it was not tied to the business.

“Honey, he owns the whole damn block.”

Graham was waiting by the elevator with Mary Margaret and David. Everyone exchanged smiles and greetings.

Over lunch, David animatedly retold his proposal to Mary Margaret and Graham asked several questions. When prodded, Graham blushingly admitted that he may have been planning a proposal of his own very shortly. Mary Margaret squealed with delight and she and David began to talk simultaneously. Ruby started making faces every time MM and David exchanged an affectionate glance or word and Belle was biting her lip in an attempt not to laugh out loud. Belle could get used to this kind of camaraderie, she realized. They were a tightly knit group but they had welcomed her with open arms. She had not felt so at home since her undergrad days – long before Grayson came along. She put him out of her mind, determined to enjoy herself.

The subject of their boss came up a little later, as David took a moment to apologize to Belle for having brought Gold’s wrath upon her earlier that day. She flushed a deep scarlet and mumbled something about his apology being unnecessary. Ruby gave her an odd look but said nothing.

The split the bill evenly, although Ruby left the biggest tip. Everyone trudged back up to the office feeling a little sleepy.

The Finance meeting went surprisingly well. Maggie Fa, an imposing woman in a sleek suit, was exceedingly efficient. She had been able to slash the budget by 5% without sacrificing profit or anyone’s job. Gold did not meet Belle’s eyes and responded impartially to her comments. Maggie did not comment on the strange tension between them, but Belle was certain from her knowing looks that she had noticed it.

Afterwards, Maggie gave Belle her card.

“I don’t work full time in the building, I consult for several companies in the area. Mary Margaret may not have put me in the directory yet.”

“Oh? How long have you been working with us?” Belle tucked the card into her desk drawer.

“About a month. You’re new too, right?”

“Newer than that. This is my first week. I’m only here two weeks out of the month though. Maybe I should get cards made up, too…”

“Never a bad idea. Gold’s a prickly one, isn’t he?”

“I suppose, yes.”

“Is it worth fighting for?”

“Excuse me?” Belle fought back another blush. Could everyone around here read her like a book?

“Belle, I have eyes. They work. Whatever you two have going on is not strictly business. Don’t worry, I won’t ask. I just… know a thing or two about tension at work.”  Maggie’s eyes were smiling, though her expression remained otherwise neutral.

Belle bowed her head and lowered her voice. “He didn’t have to make it so obvious.”

Maggie shrugged. “I think you leave him a little more unbalanced than you think.” She extended a hand. “Well, I’ve got a 2:30 uptown. Pleasure to meet you, Belle.”

Belle shook her hand a little numbly, turning over the words in her head. Was it possible that she had underestimated the amount of draw she held over her perplexing new co-worker?

The thought made a shiver of delight run down her spine.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The walk home was chilly but passed quickly as her mind continued to contemplate the mystery that was Angus Gold.

They had met in less than perfect circumstances, to be certain. And she did have Grayson to be concerned about. She felt like she should be ashamed of feeling this way about another man with Grayson back home in Boston, awaiting her return.

She would probably feel more ashamed if she hadn’t found that pink thong under their bed three weeks before Christmas. She didn’t own a pink thong.

If she had been in love with him, she supposed she would have confronted him about it. As it was, she simply made note of the incident and moved on with her life. She also went out and got tested, just in case. She and Grayson slept together infrequently and always used protection, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

Grayson’s pursuit of some woman who wore pink thongs had likely been just another impetus behind her little foray into the realm of Femme Fatale. She had wanted to know what it was like to be the kind of girl men tried to pick up in bars. She had wanted to smoke and drink and swear loudly for all the world to hear. She hadn’t intended on doing more than putting on a show.

Then there had been Angus, with his spicy scent and his oh-so-touchable hair. He had been charming in all the wrong ways. His actions spoke so much louder than his cutting and often unfortunate choice of words.

He wasn’t the man a girl like “Lacey” would probably go home with. But Belle was still in the driver’s seat and she liked what she saw.

Belle lay back on her bed, shoes kicked off and skirt unbuttoned. Angus had been the last man to touch her. She had denying Grayson’s pawing advances on New Year’s, telling him she had had too much champagne. In truth, she didn’t want his clumsy hands and sloppy mouth to ruin the memories of her previous encounter.

She pulled herself up to slide off her shirt and skirt, then her pantyhose. She hesitated at her underwear. It still felt unnatural to be naked in this room, her home away from home.

“Oh, what the hell…” She pulled off the remaining items of clothing and crawled into the luxurious sheets.

Thinking of Angus and their night together had left her body tingling, her nipples puckered and her slit dampening. She brought one hand to her chest, tracing over the soft skin there and pinching one nipple lightly. She imagined Angus bringing his mouth to chest and nibbling at her. In her head, he slid his other hand down her belly to the juncture of her thighs.

He would give her a wicked smile when he saw how wet she already was for him. He would extend one finger and trace her opening, moving slowly, teasing her… drawing out the pleasure. She brought her finger up to circle around her hooded clit a couple times, applying a little more pressure each time.

The Angus in her mind was tracing that same path with his tongue, now. He dipped a finger from his other hand delicately between her nether lips, before sliding it home. She thrust first the one finger and then added another, finding a rhythm she liked. Her hips began to move of their own accord, riding her fingers. Her juices dripped onto the sheet as she imagined Angus now between her thighs, rocking into her and muttering her name – her real name this time – with abandon. He would bend down to pinch her clit and tell her to come for him. So she did, her back arched and head tossed back against the pillow, his name on her lips.  

In the hazy aftermath, she rolled away from the wet spot and let her breathing slow. Her cell phone buzzed. It was Grayson.

_Grayson could go fuck himself. Better yet - Grayson could go fuck an army of pink-thong-wearing girls all over Boston_. She laughed as she realized she genuinely did not care.

It was time to do what _Belle_ wanted to do for once. Not what Moe wanted. Not what society expected. New York could be the start of a whole new kind of adventure, a whole new freedom. She was finally feeling brave enough to take it on.

She’d have a little talk with Grayson once she got back to Boston. It was about bloody time.  

The phone buzzed again in her hand – One new voicemail.

She threw it unceremoniously onto the bed and headed to the shower, her naked hips swaying with new-found confidence. 


	10. Sweet comic Valentine....

Angus had thought he would be relieved once Belle was out of his office for two weeks. He should have been able to breathe easier without that feeling of creeping through a minefield every time they spoke. Instead, he caught himself missing the flourish of her swishy little skirts and the wafting scent of roses and honey she always left in her wake.

That damn woman. She was a distraction he did not need right now. There was always a lot on his plate, but fighting off the accusations of the Hart Corporation should be front and center.  Yet here he was, file abandoned on his desk, daydreaming like a teenage boy.

He wondered if his son, Bailey had ever felt like this about a girl. His ex-wife, Milah had taken the boy with her back to Scotland and even the best of his lawyers had not been able to bring him back. Gold’s criminal activities in his homeland were sufficient to keep them from ever making a solid enough case.

Bailey was 12 when Angus last saw him in person. Angus sent child support and set up an account in Bailey’s name only, so that Milah and her new husband couldn’t get their greedy little hands on it. He used to call every week and Bailey would rush to the phone, eager to spill every detail of his time. Then, he got very busy with his work and could only make time to call once every month. After that, Bailey answered less frequently. Milah would tell him coldly that Bailey was a teenager and didn’t have time for dear old Dad. He would leave message after message and hear nothing back.

By the time Bailey was finishing secondary school, they had only spoken once that year. Milah told him Bailey was heading to University but she would not tell him where. He had not heard from his son since then.

Angus dropped his head into his hands. There was a tap at his door.

“Mr. Gold?”

“Mr. Prince.”

David deposited a few papers on his desk. “These just came in via fax. I would have left them in your inbox but they were marked urgent.”

“Thank you.”

David idled by his desk. “Um, Mr. Gold?”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to remind you that Mary Margaret and I put in the time off request for this coming Tuesday. We’ll be here all day but you approved us to leave early. Not too early, just about 3pm.”

The younger man’s icy blue eyes were so open and sincere, Angus could have throttled him. Of course he didn’t mention the date – February 14th. Valentine’s Day. David wasn’t fooling anyone. Of course he and Ms. White would have plans for the holiday.

“3pm?” He knit his brow as though he was giving this very careful consideration.  David shifted his weight awkwardly. Angus bit back a grin. “Hm, well… We do have that teleconference on Wednesday morning….”

“I’ll have everything all ready to go before I leave.”

“Fine, fine. Go on then.”

David’s face lit up like Moe French’s gaudy Christmas tree. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Mm.” He inclined his head.

“We do appreciate it.” David turned to go and then flipped back around. “Oh, and Miss French is back in the office starting Monday. She called earlier to let us know her flight had been changed.”

He nearly choked on his coffee.  “That will be all Prince.”

“Have a good weekend, Sir.”

His weekend was dull and filled with file review. Monday was a series of meetings that took him out of office almost all day. By Tuesday, he was aching for just a few minutes alone with Miss French, but their schedules seemed to interfere at every turn.  

Tuesday evening , everyone left work as quickly as possible to celebrate with significant others or friends.

The place was deserted, or so Angus thought. That is, until he noticed the light in Belle’s office. He grabbed his cane and hobbled over toward it. The door was half opened but it was easy for him to stay unseen as he approached. He had no real plan in mind, but it seemed apropos that the two of them be the last to leave on such a “romantic” occasion. He slowly became aware that she was speaking. Since he couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, he could safely assume she was on the phone. Her voice carried as it rose with emphasis.

“No…. I never said that I was… No Papa.” A pause. “Absolutely not!.... I know and I am sorry. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I just… I couldn’t…. Dad, I…. No, but I…. Dad…. Please just…. Dad! Listen to me! I didn’t love him. I know it’s Valentine’s Day, today. Yes, Happy Valentine’s Day to you too. No, I did it last week before I left Boston…. I don’t know why he waited so long to tell you.” There was another stretch of silence before she heaved a loud sigh. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dad. If you want Grayson in the family so badly, YOU marry him!”

Angus heard the phone slam into its holder. He began to edge away from the door when Belle was suddenly in front of him.

“Gold!”

For a moment he forgot how to form words. Belle’s eyes were red rimmed and her hair was a mess. Her mascara had begun to run a thin line of black down one cheek. “Miss French.”

“Were you spying on me?” She was far too close for comfort. Even her disheveled rage had him picturing how she may look in an altogether different state of disarray.

“I… certainly not. I have far better things to do with my time.” He drew himself to his full height, peering imperiously down his nose at her.

Her shoulders slumped “Angus, I can’t take this shit right now. I’m having a hell of a night. Can we just… drop the petty antagonism? Just for tonight?” There was a note of pleading in her voice that wrenched his heart. He froze, his mouth half-open, stuck between genuine concern and his customary isolating sarcasm. She shook her head and pushed past him. “Good night, Mr. Gold.”

“Wait…” She didn’t turn but she paused halfway to the elevator. “May I walk you home?”

“It’s only a couple of blocks.”

“I know but it’s after dark and I… could use the company.” He finished tactfully, closing the distance between them. The elevator lit up and the door slid open.

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“I usually do.”

In the dim lighting he could see the corner of her mouth tug upward before she stepped onto the elevator. He followed quietly. When they reached the main door, he held it open for her and she thanked him. They were halfway down the block before she broke the silence.

“You heard everything, didn’t you.” It wasn’t really a question.

“Not everything, but enough, I suppose. I’m… sorry  to hear it.”

She made a distinctly unladylike sound. “Like Hell you are.”

He halted in his tracks. “Despite my monstrous reputation, I’m not completely devoid of human emotion, Miss French.”

She stopped as well, covering her face briefly with her hands. “Oh God, I am sorry… I was the one asking for a truce and I’m just… ugh. Sorry. Can we try again?” She met his eyes, her makeup still smeared, but her face more relaxed than before. “You’re not a monster. I know that. I… I appreciate you walking with me, tonight. I needed the company more than I could have admitted.”

He nodded his acceptance of her apology and they continued on. She sidled closer, taking his free arm. He started a little with surprise and almost stumbled but caught himself.

With her warmth at his side, the February evening seemed almost pleasant. He ventured a glance down at her face and was quite pleased to see the previous distress had been replaced by an enigmatic half-smile. They passed several small stores that were rolling down their metal curtains for the night, including at least 3 flower shops with signs announcing that they were entirely sold out.

At the corner just before they would reach her hotel, there was a small stand still open. An older woman held out her few remaining rosebuds as though she were offering up a sacrifice. On a whim, Angus turned to her, Belle following by their linked arms. Most of the roses were wilted and looking quite worn but one just to the left of center stood out, deep red and plucked just before its bloom. He gave the woman his money and indicated that one.

She grinned, missing several teeth in the front, and wiped her dirty hands on her dirty skirt before stuffing the money in her pocket. Gold withdrew from Belle’s side briefly to pick up the rose. He held it aloft before presenting it to Belle, with a slight bend at his waist.

“For me?” She seemed genuinely surprised.

“If you’ll have it.” He hoped desperately that he was not making a fool of himself.

She took it with a small curtsy and smiled as she brought it to her nose. “Thank you. It’s… really lovely.” Her eyes lifted from the rose to meet his and he felt even warmer than he had a moment ago.

“Yes, well. She looked like she could use the money. And you have had a rather rough night-“

He was interrupted as Belle raised her free hand to his lips, laying one finger across them to silence him. “Angus, shh.”

With her gentle touch accompanying it, he could not even bring himself to feel indignant at the admonishment. She slid her hand to his jaw, cupping the side of his face. With a searching look, she raised herself onto her tiptoes and placed her lips against his.

He was so surprised he almost forgot to kiss back. Almost.

They kissed for several long seconds that could have been hours before she pulled away and he released the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

The smile on her lips was even wider than before. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Angus.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Belle.” 


	11. I Think We Kissed but I forgot

Things were running a little more smoothly with Angus after Valentine's Day. She didn't expect miracles, but he was obviously making an effort to be less abrasive. By the end of her two weeks, she was sorry to be flying back home.

Before she left, she got an invitation in her inbox to MM and David's joint bachelor/bachelorette party. She was flattered to have been invited after so short an acquaintance and accepted happily.

Back in Boston, her father was still sulking over the loss of Grayson but allowed her to stay in her old room. She hired movers to help her clear her things out of the apartment while Grayson was at work. She contemplated leaving a note but decided against it. He had been less than congenial since their breakup.

She couldn’t hold that against him, really. He had never seen it coming, probably because he hadn’t been paying attention.

Once her bags were back at her father’s house and her furniture in storage, the finality of it started to sink in. It felt good. It felt free. It was also a little scary. That felt good, too.

She rifled through her nicer dresses for something to wear to the party in New York. It would be her first official social outing with her new friends. They invited her to lunch often enough but this was a real party.

Belle had never been much of a social butterfly… more like a social caterpillar, really. She enjoyed the company of others, just not all at once. Parties were a challenge, but the kind that Brave New Belle would face with her head held high. Just not in any of these clothes.

She made a note to have the girls taking her shopping in New York for something a little more Marilyn and little less Jackie O.

When she wasn’t working at FTL, she spent her free time in Boston apartment-hunting. She didn’t need much, a studio would do. Living with her father was simply not a long term option. Moe didn’t speak to her much but his disappointment hung heavily in the air between them. It felt like a ripe bruise on her heart. She had to wait him out, though. Arguing with her father had rarely done either of them any good.

Her time to return to New York could not arrive fast enough and she fled Boston like the hounds of Hell were at her heels. To her surprise, Ruby and Graham were waiting for her at the airport.

“Hey chicky!” Ruby stooped her long, lithe form to hug her fiercely. Graham hugged them both at once, squeezing her just a little too tightly around the ribs.

“Hey! Ok… need air….” They released her, all of them laughing as she straightened her coat. “What are you guys doing here?”

Graham grabbed her suitcase. “C’mon, Ruby got her grandmother’s car so we could pick you up. Before we head back to the office Monday, we thought we’d take you out for a night on the town!”

“I’m hardly dressed for…”

Ruby made a dismissive hand motion. “You can borrow something. Come on! The faster we drop your crap off at the hotel, the more clubs we can hit!” She rolled her hips suggestively in a little dance, drawing a few stares from passersby.

Belle was embarrassed and amused all at once. “Well, alright, but only because it’s Saturday and I haven’t hit the town out here yet.”

A car pulled up the curb driven by a short-haired man she didn’t recognize. He popped the trunk and Graham loaded Belle’s suitcase into it, grabbing her other bags and loading them too. Graham opened the backseat door for Ruby and Belle before hopping into the passenger seat. The driver turned back to face Belle and gave her a lopsided grin.

“I’m Grey and I’ll be the getaway driver for this kidnapping. Nice to meet you, Belle.”

“Um, likewise” Belle shook his hand awkwardly with the seat between them. She looked imploringly at Ruby.

Ruby rapped the heel of her palm against her forehead “Oh, right, sorry – Introductions! Grey is Graham’s boyfriend –“

“Fiancé!” Graham interrupted gleefully.

“Sorry! Fiancé. He knows some of the best clubs in the city because he’s an artist and much cooler than the rest of the petty bourgeois. Except for me.”

“Oh Ruby, you couldn’t be bourgeois if you tried.” Grey winked at them through the rear view mirror.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Ruby preened.

“I meant it as one. Now, let’s get the Hell out of this airport. The TSA is giving us the Evil Eye.”

They made very animated conversation on the way back to Belle’s hotel suite. Ruby flirted with the doorman on the way in and Belle was blushing beet red by the time she reached her room.

With her bags tucked away and boys waiting in the car, she turned to Ruby.

“Did you do all of this because of my email about Grayson?”

Ruby jutted one hip and placed her hand on it. “I did this because you’re my friend. The fact you’re single and ready to mingle just adds flavor! Plus, Graham and I have talked about you so much already; Grey was dying to meet you!”

Belle felt her eyes start to fill. “Ruby… I ... thank you. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to have real friends.”

“Aw honey, don’t cry... You’ll make me cry… and I’m all out of waterproof mascara right now”

Belle gave a watery chuckle and slung an arm around Ruby’s waist. “Alright, lets go get pretty and party.”

“Atta girl!”

After a stop by Ruby’s house to return the car and change, they took the subway into the city. Grey led the way, pointing out some of his favorite attractions as they went. The fist stop was a party on the roof of someone’s apartment building. Then it was an underground club on the East side. A little after that, they were in a very large dark space filled with pulsing music and neon lights. Belle could no longer identify which part of the city she was in, but Ruby, Graham, and Grey took turns checking in on her.

She had thought she would be quite chilly in the tiny fitted sheath dress Ruby had found for her, but the press of bodies, constant dancing, and steady influx of alcohol kept the cold at bay.

Everything was delicious, but it was a little fuzzy and maybe spinning a little too fast. The people were all these beautiful, moving blurs of light and color. So pretty. They moved so fast, though.

How did they move so fast when she felt like she was moving so slowly?

Suddenly, she realized that she needed very badly to get some fresh air.

Graham and Grey were tucked into a corner and looked so cozy she couldn’t think to bother them. Ruby was encased by a tall man in a tank top with very muscular arms.

Belle rubbed her face and then cursed because she remembered she was wearing makeup. Air would help. She found the door with the big EXIT sign. Well, at least she could still read. That thought made her giggle (though she wasn’t sure why).

Outside the club, the bouncer asked if she wanted a cab. She was supposed to share a cab with Ruby and the boys but... she didn’t want to ruin their fun… No one likes a spoilsport. Besides, was she even ready to go home?

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

She leaned against the building and pulled out her phone from the little wallet purse Ruby had also leant her, to check the time. It was late. Late, late. People would usually be asleep by now, wouldn’t they?

She wondered if Angus was asleep. Would he be mad if she called him? She had saved his cell phone number from the work directory. For emergencies. Or something. She giggled again. Angus hadn’t minded her the last time she was drunk. Of course, she had a sneaking suspicion she was much more drunker this time. More drunk. Much drunk… er.

On a whim, she pressed the contact to call him.

“Hello?” He didn’t even sound sleepy. Maybe a little irritated.

“Hi! Angus, hi! It’s me. Belle, me, that is. I’m Belle.” Her laugh came out as a snort which made her laugh more. “Hi there.”

“Belle? What on earth… are you drunk?”

“Mmm, I love it when you're perceptive…” She purred.

“Where are you? Are you in New York?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you alone? Do you need me to come and get you?”

She scrunched her face up, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see her. “Oh, no. It’s ok. Ruby’s here… somewhere with the big-armed guy and the guys are all cuddly and it made me feel like talking to you, that’s all. Can I come over?”

There was a long pause and she checked to make sure he hadn’t hung up on her. At last he made a sound that reminded her of a whimpering puppy. “Do you have cab fare? I can give you some when you get here.”

“I have some, I think. Ruby gave me this pretty wallet purse thing. It’s ingenious; you wear it around your wrist so you don’t lose it. Isn’t that great?”

“That’s fantastic, sweetheart. I’m going to text you my address. You tell the cab driver to take you straight here, ok?” His voice was warm and gentle and it made her want to yawn a little.

“Okie dokie. I’ll see you soon, lover.”

The bouncer hailed a cab for her and she gave the cabbie the address, as directed.

 It was a penthouse. Of course it was. Although, some irrational part of her brain had almost expected a castle.

He buzzed her up immediately.

He was in pajama pants and a T-shirt when he answered the door. She had never seen him so casual. She wanted to run her hands all over his torso and show him how much she appreciated this particular look. Not that he didn’t fill out a suit exquisitely well. But those had so many layers to remove.

She flung her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. His responded with gentle pressure but then withdrew, removing her arms from his person and grasping her shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want me?”

"Darling, you can hardly stand up straight." There was a tremor in his voice.

"No, but I can lie down just fine." Her giggle turned into a hiccup and then a cough. She tried to wink but had trouble remembering which eye was supposed to close first.

“Belle…” He gave her a pleading look. She could have drowned in those big dark eyes of his. She leaned in to kiss him again and he stepped further away, now holding her at full arm’s length. “You need to get some sleep. Had you had any water?”

“I’m not sleepy!” She insisted, biting back another yawn. “And I thought it was ok that I’ve been drinking. That’s how we do this, isn’t it? You and me? With a little social lubricant between us?”

His brow furrowed. “It’s not… that doesn’t have to be…. Look, Belle, you’re not going to be at all rational enough for this conversation until you’ve had a good night’s sleep. Now if you’ll allow me to tuck you in for the night, we’ll pick this up again in the morning, alright?”

She tilted her head down and looked up at him with wide, round eyes. “And then you’ll fuck me good and proper?”

He made a choking noise and his grip on her shoulders tightened. “Yes. If… that’s what you still want in the morning.”

“Promise?”

He nodded solemnly, his voice a hoarse whisper “I promise.”

“Ok!” She gave him her cheeriest smile and allowed him to lead her to the bed. She undressed with little finesse, leaving clothes where they dropped. He situated her between the silken sheets and she hummed with contentment. Lying down felt so good. How had she forgotten how good it felt?

The light brush of lips to her brow was the last thing she remembered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grey Hughes was borrowed (with permission) from the amazing and talented nothingeverlost 
> 
> her ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
> 
> her tumblr:   
> http://nothingeverlost.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> He's Bobby's character in Priest. Lost gave him the nickname "Grey" and shipped him with Graham. I loved it so much, I asked if I could work him in. Yes, he does show up again, because he was fun to write!


	12. Why Don't You Do Right...

The room was far too bright and his leg was screaming in pain. Not his favorite way to wake up. For a moment he tried to remember why on earth he had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Oh. Right.

There was a woman in his bed. In other circumstances, that might have sounded quite alluring. As it was… he had better check and make sure she hadn’t made a mess of things.

He rolled slowly to his side, trying to push himself up to a sitting position. His cane was propped against the arm of the sofa. He reached for it and found enough leverage to pull himself up.

A quick glance into the bedroom revealed a mass of brown curls peeking out from his comforter. The water he left on the table was half empty, so she must have woken up at least once. He was glad he had left her in her underwear, so as not to push the bounds of propriety – despite the fact they had already seen one another in much less.

The urge to crawl into bed with her had been far too enticing as it was. Having her naked between his sheets might have broken his resolve entirely.

He tried to dismiss the images that rose to mind all too readily as he limped away.

His master bathroom was through his bedroom, but he didn’t want to disturb his sleeping beauty. The guest bathroom would suffice. He took a few pain pills, rinsed his face and teeth, and straightened himself up before heading to the kitchen.

There was a day-old paper on the island and he flicked through it as the water boiled.

 “Hey.”

He nearly fell back against the counter in surprise. Belle stood awkwardly at the entrance to the kitchen. Her hair was a tousled mess and there were some traces of last night’s makeup. Otherwise, she looked quite well for someone who could have barely remembered her own name the night before.

“Hey” he replied lamely, his brain not supplying anything better at this hour.

She must have grabbed one of his button-down shirts. It fell to her upper thighs and the sleeves just past her hands. She had buttoned it most of the way up, but he could tell through the soft fabric that she must have removed her bra, at some point. His mouth went dry at that realization and he shifted his stance slightly. 

How was it that she could look sexier in just that simple shirt than any woman he’d ever seen in a designer dress?

She licked her lips, obviously unsure of how to proceed. He knew the feeling. “Thank you for last night. I, um, I’ll make breakfast."

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but you didn’t have to be such a gentleman last night. I’m going to, whether you like it or not.” She grinned and winked at him. He dumbly indicated the refrigerator. He was almost grateful when the kettle whistled and he could busy himself with making tea.

He left an extra cup and all the necessities on the counter for her and retired to the living room.

 _Pull yourself together, man!_ He thought. _She was drunk and lonely in the big city. Yours probably wasn’t even the first number she called. You’re just the only one who keeps such ungodly hours._ That thought steadied him a bit, but his free hand continued to clench and unclench at his side. It wasn’t every day that a woman he so desired wandered half-naked into his kitchen and threatened to cook him breakfast.

 Her head popped around the corner a few minutes later. “Um, all you had were pickles, an expired yogurt and some leftovers I’m sure have seen better days...”

He smirked at his hands. “Yeah, it’s a grocery day.”

She made a noise of agreement and padded into the room, barefoot. He continued to stare at his tea, flicking his glance up to her surreptitiously from under his lashes. She was looking around the living room as though she had never seen furniture before, her hands linked behind her back. “You have excellent taste, Angus.”

He gave a self-deprecating chuckle, then sipping his tea. “I have excellent taste in decorators, you mean.”

“Well, I assume you still had some say…”

“Oh, aye. I bought every piece. I just hired other people to put it where it is.” This time when he ventured a glance upward, she was standing much closer. Almost close enough to touch. He restrained himself.

Despite the promise she had wrangled from him last night, he would not a lay a hand upon her unless given explicit permission to do so. A drunken come-on didn’t count, as much as he’d been sorely tempted to disregard that fact. If she only wanted him when she was inebriated… well, he couldn’t blame her for that, but he would not be any further complicit in her poor choices.

“Well, how about we pick up some groceries and then I make breakfast?” He felt her eyes on him like a caress and he finally dared to meet them. “Unless, I’m making a nuisance of myself. Or you have… other plans.”

She wasn’t very subtle, was she?

“No, Belle. I don’t have any other plans. We may want to get you some pants, first. Not that I… mind the view.” There was no rule saying he couldn’t look and appreciate.

A grin spread across her face and she took a step closer. He picked up the scent of toothpaste. “I had hoped you wouldn’t mind that I’d borrowed this.” Her fingers traced the collar of the shirt and ran down the length of the first several buttons, stopping where it was fastened over her breastbone.

He felt very short of breath, mesmerized by her hand as it toyed with the button. “I don’t usually let people borrow my things.” He admitted, his voice dropping in register without conscious effort.

Her own voice was barely above a whisper and he leaned forward to pick up every note. “Would you rather I gave it back?” She popped the topmost button through the loop and he could see the slope of her breasts as the fabric fell back.

Was she trying to kill him? When he opened his mouth the first time, no sound escaped. The second time, he had to bite back a whimper. “Oh yes. Please.”

And with that, she straddled his lap. Before he could even think to react, her lips were on his, her hands buried in his hair. He was already half hard from the sight of her in his shirt and it was not long at all before he was standing fully to attention, hot and hard against her center. One of her hands worked between them to free her of the remaining buttons but he’d had enough of that game. He yanked the hem of the shirt over her head with both hands.

She raised both arms to comply and he contemplated using the shirttails to tie her hands above her head – she looked so delicious arched like that! But he didn’t want to scare her off when he finally had her in his arms again.

The shirt dropped to the floor and his hands trailed up her sides to cup her pert breasts. They were just as alluring as he remembered. He leaned forward to trace one nipple with the tip of his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. She made a noise low in her throat. As he suckled a little harder, her nails dug into his scalp. For several minutes, he lost himself in the simple worship of her breasts. He would have been happy to taste and nibble them for hours, but she rolled her hips deliberately against his, heightening his own need exponentially with the display of her own.

He could feel her heat through her underwear and his pajama pants but it was nowhere near enough. As his head rose from her chest, she pulled his mouth back to hers and devoured him with a hungry kiss.

He grasped at her backside, kneading the flesh in his hands as she ground down into him.

He felt more than heard her soft little plea against his lips. “Angus… please.”

He could have come undone from the desire in her voice, alone. “Belle, are you… is this what you really want?”

She sat back a bit, still perched on his lap and looked at him curiously. “Well, I’m not here for my health…”

He looked away from those too-blue eyes. “That’s rather my point. I’m not exactly a healthy choice, sweetheart.”

She crossed her arms. “And it’s not exactly your decision to make, is it? I appreciated you putting me off last night when I was so soused that you couldn’t read my judgment. But I’m still here and I’m sober and I still want you, doesn’t that tell you anything?”

There was a very big part of him (well, he’d been told it was a decent size) that wanted to throw Belle back on the sofa and show her _exactly_ what she was telling him. Yet, he hesitated. There was nothing that Belle could gain from him, so why on earth would she want this? He must have been silent too long because Belle pushed herself off of his lap with a huffing noise and stalked into the bedroom.

He rubbed his face, his erection slowly softening in his lap. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_.

With some assistance from his cane, he pulled himself to standing and hobbled quickly to the bedroom. Belle was nearly finished pulling on her outfit from the night before.

She scowled at her shoe’s buckle as he made his presence known. “Don’t worry; I’ll be out of here in a second. You can go about your normal day of hunting small children for their pelts or whatever beasts like you do of a Sunday.”

He swallowed several times in succession, his free hand fluttering uselessly at his side. “I’m not good at this, Belle.”

“You can say that again.”

“I’m not good at this, Belle.” He repeated, attempting levity.

It fell flat.

She stood before him, almost eye to eye in her heels. “Why are you determined to drive me away? I grant you that we met in rather less than auspicious circumstances. But you know me at least a little bit by now. What else do you need to know to stop this ridiculous cat and mouse game? I know you want me. I know you can be difficult. Lucky for you, I’m pretty easy-going. You’re the only one I know who can push my buttons like this… in more ways than one. What more do you want from me?”

With her hair wild and her eyes flashing, her lips still swollen from his kisses, she was a vision.

Unfortunately, there had been another woman with dark hair and flashing eyes who had stood before in this same spot, over a decade ago, telling him something very different. _Cora_. Cora had told him that he was nothing to her. She told him that she had gotten all she needed from their dalliance. Her word – _dalliance_. He had offered her his heart once and _she_ had thrown it to the ground and thrashed it to nothing but crooked shards.

Unbeknownst to Belle, Angus’s eyes were still clouded with the past as his lips twisted into a snarl. Long buried ghosts taunted him into a venomous retreat. 

“Nothing, dear. I’ve got nothing to give you and you’ve nothing I want, besides the obvious. Let’s not make this more complicated than it needs to be, eh? It’s not my responsibility to care for you when you’re off your head and it’s not your job to thank me with sex. If you want a quick fuck in the boardroom sometime, I’m happy to oblige, but no more of these little late-night sojourns."

The slap that landed across his cheek was not entirely unexpected. Nor the slammed door that followed it.

The one thing that didn’t make sense gave him a twisting feeling in his belly as his knees got weak and he sunk into the nearest chair.

_There had been tears in her eyes._

Cora never cried, not even when her father died.

He had made Belle cry out of his own insipid desire for self-preservation.

He really was a beast. 


	13. Think of the Tender Things That We were Working On...

Belle was not sure how she even made it out of the building when she left Gold’s apartment. The tears clogged her vision and left her gasping for breath. Her phone was dead, but the door man was kind enough to hail her a cab. Her heartbeat was thrumming in her ears and her stomach wrenching. She fought back the bile that was rising in her throat long enough to give her address.

She stripped off the trappings of the night before as soon as she stepped over the threshold. A hot bath set her a little more to rights, but not much.

When her phone was charged enough to turn back on, she found Ruby had left a slurred message making sure she had gotten home safely. Luckily, she had sent a quick text to Ruby when she left the club or she fancied there would have been a search party at the St. Regis by the time she got back. She fought the urge to call and spill everything that had happened.

Ruby was so sweet to her, but they did work together. It would not do for this bizarre… circumstance (affair? Ugh.) with Angus – _Mr. Gold_ – to become office gossip. She texted, instead and told Ruby that she was home and safe and going back to sleep.

True to her word, she crawled into the fresh sheets on her king-sized bed. Sleep wouldn’t come, though. She kept replaying the past 24 hours in her head on a loop. Everything she remembered from the night before and everything that had led up to Gold’s unreasonably cruel dismissal.

None of it made sense. He had been sweet and almost kind to her on Valentine’s Day. Their interactions had been tempered by soft words and warm looks, since then. Despite heated arguments that arose from work disputes, they always managed to find some common ground. When it was just the two of them in his office, he looked at her with unveiled admiration.

Perhaps it was because this time she had been on his territory, in his home. He had felt threatened because she had gotten too close... Well, boo-hoo for him. If he couldn’t suck it up and play with the big kids, that wasn’t her problem. He was nearly twice her age and it was about damn time he grew the fuck up.

She buried her face in her pillow and released a wail of rage and hurt. She screamed her frustrations until her throat was raw.

It didn’t help as much as she had hoped. Her throat was sore, there were mascara stains on the pillow, and she still felt miserable.

Damn him.

No one person should ever be able to make another feel this way, she determined bitterly. She was half tempted to call him and wear out her voice completely letting him know exactly where he could stick this merger. She wanted to go home. But going home meant facing her father again and trying to explain why his little girl couldn’t handle the responsibilities he’d given her.

Besides, she wasn’t about to let work suffer. In so short a time, she already felt so close to the other workers in Gold’s office. Goldie, who always had a smile and a seemingly never-ending supply of oatmeal cookies. MM and David were not much older than she was but there was something so parental about them, caring and giving. Ruby was a spitfire who always saw the best parts of everyone. Graham was a darling who always put others before himself. And flighty little Astrid was always making them all laugh with anecdotes about her grumpy yet charming husband, Leroy.

For them, she would put her brave face back on and face the day. Tomorrow. Right now, she was going to order lots of dessert and lie in bed watching bad tv.

As it happened, the work week passed mostly without incident. She avoided Gold like the plague for four days straight. If she saw him walking toward her in a hallway, she would turn heel and go the other direction. She found some very circuitous routes to the ladies’ room, that way.

On Thursday, Ruby dropped a folder on Belle’s desk and sprawled into the nearest chair.“Hey, Gold told me to bring you this, so we can get started.” 

“What is ‘this’?” Belle flipped it open and recognized the name immediately. “Wait… when did we acquire Bibliothèque Publishing?”

Ruby shrugged. “I thought you knew about that.”

“I knew that Gold was one of the industries they reached out to for help but he decided they were too far in the red to be an asset. We… may have had a few words over that at the last budget meeting.” Belle blushed.

Ruby had the good grace not to mention that everyone was aware of their 'few words' at the last meeting, as they had been heard clear across the office. Even Mary Margaret had had to shut her door. “Well, they had an anonymous benefactor make a donation that brought them back into the black. It’s barely enough that I thought Gold would go for it, but he told me that I was to work with you on developing the new campaign for them. We’re gonna spice up their image and get them back into a competitive market. He said you knew a thing or two about the world of publishing.”

Belle looked down at her nails. “Yeah, I um… Bibliothèque works a lot with independent and first time authors and they were all set to publish a book I wrote. But they were going out of business and couldn’t afford to.” She chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought. She had mentioned that to Angus once, in passing. She didn’t think it was something he would remember.

Ruby fiddled with some things on the desk, including a slender vase with a single dried rose in it. “The indie market could be a good one, if we position it just right. Maybe a film tie-in?”

Belle nodded. “Yeah, do you have time for a brainstorming session right now?”

“I’m all yours till the Viacom meeting at 3, Lady.”

“Good, we’ve got plenty to do.” Belle pushed away the niggling thought at the back of her mind and hunkered down over her desk. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it might be in the form of a bribe from a certain hot-tempered cripple.

By the time Ruby had to leave for her meeting, Belle was feeling pretty confident over their progress. Bibliothèque was a company that deserved better than it had gotten from the competition over the years. She had been ready to champion them whether they published her own work or not. Their delight in her little work of fiction just made the appreciation mutual.

She sighed, studying her empty coffee mug. She knew why Gold had done this. He knew she wasn’t stupid or naïve, so he would be aware of that.

She waited until the office had mostly cleared out before making the trek to his door. It was cracked just enough that he must have heard her approach.

“Come in.”

She took a deep breath, entering quickly and closing the door behind her. “Ruby and I have worked out the first part of the revitalization of Bibliothèque Publishing.” She laid the folder on his desk, backing away as though he might reach for her.

His eyes were large and dark, unreadable. He licked his lips, “Thank you. You don’t need to run it by me, though. I have every faith that the two of you will do exactly what’s needed.”

“Alright. I will keep you apprised at the next budget meeting of any additional funding we may need to allocate.” She gripped the file a little too tightly, debating on her next move. He hadn’t looked away and somewhere in her mind’s eye, she pictured a puppy that had just piddled on the carpet. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “What you said was very hurtful.”

He didn’t look at all surprised by the seeming non sequitur. He nodded, his face ashen. “I am sorry, Belle.”

“Why did you say those things?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

If she didn’t know better she would have said he blushed. He flexed his hands nervously on his desktop, but his voice was steady. “I don’t know. I… I think I was trying to push you away. I’m not good for you, Belle. I can never be… I’m not the kind of man a woman like you deserves. If you had stayed that day… I wouldn’t have had the strength to turn you away again.”

“Why won’t you let me decide for myself? You trust my judgment in business, why won’t you let me make my own decisions about you?” She stepped closer to the desk.

He looked down. “I did mean the part when I told you there was nothing I can give you.”

“I’ve never asked for anything but _you_. And from where I’m standing, you just gave me a publishing company.” She gestured with the file, raising an eyebrow.

“I did some research. You were right about them. They just needed a second chance.” He shrugged.

“So, you believe in second chances? Just not in your personal life?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Companies and people are very different.”

The thought she had been ignoring all day came to the forefront of her mind. “You were the anonymous benefactor, weren’t you? You were the one who put them back in the black before you bought them out. You let everyone keep their jobs and assigned them to me because you know how much I’ve been fighting for them.”

He gave a forlorn grin. “I know; it’s a pathetic attempt to buy back your good favor. Or at least get you to talk to me again. That part seems to have worked.”

She exhaled noisily. “I also did my research, Mister. That donation was made over a week ago. You made the donation before you even had anything to apologize for, didn’t you? Did you already know you’d need the leverage?””

His eyes shifted to the right. “It’s a possibility.”

“I don’t know if you’re remarkably clever or simply the most contradictory man I’ve ever met!”

“Do we need to choose just one?” He blinked, the crease in his brow finally softening.

“Do you want to be with me, Angus?” She leaned over his desk, bracing herself on her hands as she had so many times before.

His eyes went wider than she’d ever seen them and she took a moment to pride herself on finally having taken him by surprise. “Yes. Very much. Every moment, in fact.”

“I want to be with you too. But this isn’t the schoolyard and you can’t keep pulling my pigtails because you like me!”

“That’s absurd. I’ve never even seen you in pigtails.” He tilted his head. “I’d like to, now that you mention it.”

“You’re a terrible flirt.”

“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Wipe that smile off your face. I mean it literally. You’re terrible, as in you’re really bad at it.”

He bit back the smile, but his eyes were still shining with it. “Yes, M’lady.”

She sidled around to his side of his desk and leaned against it. “There’s a good lad. And here’s a kiss for your efforts.” She kissed him gently, just a soft press of her lips to his. She stayed bent forward, her face inches from his. “If you ever talk to me again the way you did on Sunday, there will be no more second chances. Do you understand?”

His expression grew entirely serious, now. “Yes. Perfectly.”

She smiled once more and slid into his lap. “Now, about that breakfast I owe you – how does breakfast-for-dinner sound?”

“Like Heaven on Earth.”


	14. I Wanna Feel You From the Inside...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay make-up smut!

By the time they left his office, Angus was glad all the other workers had gone home. His reputation might never recover if anyone saw him with the enormous goofy grin he knew he was wearing.

There was an early spring shower outside, so they decided against walking to her hotel. He invited her to his penthouse and held his breath until she nodded her assent. It felt right that he apologize to her once more at the scene of his latest crime. A quick text to Dove and they were out of the rain and cuddled up in the back of the car. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt so light-hearted. He felt like dancing in the rain – bad leg be damned!

Somehow, this magnificent woman had seen through his defenses. For over 10 years now, he had been carefully constructing walls and she’d managed to cleave through them with just her patience and her sharp wit. It still felt too good to be true, but he was sick of questioning it. She wasn’t inebriated and she wasn’t rebelling against her father. For some reason he could not at all fathom, she found him desirable. Belle wanted him.

No matter how many times he thought it, it produced an equal amount of shock and awe each time.

 _Belle_ wanted him

Belle _wanted_ him.

Belle wanted _him_.

Nope, still short circuiting his brain.

She nuzzled at his neck, just over his collar. “Should we just order in tonight? I can always make breakfast tomorrow…”

She intended to stay the night. Dear Lord. _Don’t say anything to fuck this up, Old Man_ , he thought forcefully. “Anything you like, sweetheart.” He tilted her head up for a kiss, just because he could. It was a heady feeling beyond words knowing that he could lean in and capture her lips whenever he wished. He wanted to kiss her every minute of every day for the rest of his life.

 _Whoa, now_. He was getting ahead of himself.

The ride to his apartment was usually long in rush hour traffic and especially with bad weather. It was the first time he had not used that extra time to get more work done. He could not think to regret the change.

As soon as he had opened the door, Belle took his hand. He met her eyes uncertainly and she smiled. She pulled him gently toward her.

Without even telling it to, his free hand came up to rest at her waist. “Belle, I… I think”

“Shh… No more of that. That just gets you in trouble. Just _be_. Here. Now. With me.” She leaned up and kissed him, her hands stroking his hair.

He relaxed into her embrace, even loosening his usual clutch on his cane. “I don’t deserve you.” He murmured, trailing his mouth to her ear and nibbling at the tender lobe.

She gasped softly and pressed her body into his. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Once she had disposed him of his coat and suit jacket, they ambled to the bedroom. She undressed lazily, never taking her eyes from his, and crawled to the middle of the bed. He kicked off his shoes and removed his belt, still waiting for any sign that she would change her mind. Now clad only in silky panties and a mismatched bra, she offered a wicked grin and crooked a finger at him.

He released a breath he was barely aware he had been holding and knelt onto the bed. If he kept his weight to his good leg, there was almost no pain at all. Taking his mouth almost immediately with hers, Belle’s nimble little hands went to work on his shirt buttons and then his fly.

The first night they had done this, he had been soused enough to drop a few of his inhibitions. He had cared much less that the lights were on or that his scar tissue was on display because he had believed he would never see her again. Now, insecurity twisted in his stomach like a knife as she bared him.

When she prodded, he lay back to kick off his trousers and fought the urge to dive under the covers. She removed her bra and curled into his side, running her hand over his chest and the plane of his stomach. Good genetics and an affinity for tai chi kept him relatively fit for a man his age. Nonetheless, he reflexively tensed every muscle she touched, hoping desperately that it would meet her approval.

“Mmm, I wish I’d been sober enough to fully appreciate this the first time.” She murmured, her hand still gliding across his flesh.

He felt his face grow hot and he was just trying to think of a proper response when her questing hand made its way to his growing erection. He made a stifled noise of appreciation as she explored it through the fabric. As she had the previous time, she pulled down his boxers and bent her head to plant kisses along the shaft. With just a few swipes of her tongue, he was fully hard. She threw his boxers to some unknown corner of the room and engulfed him in her mouth. He moaned something that might have been her name and tangled his fingers in her soft curls.

She teased him a few minutes more before looking up mischievously. “Condoms?”

“Top left drawer.” He pointed. When she moved to grab them, he grasped her by the hips and managed to flip her down on the bed. She yelped and then giggled as he adjusted them so that she lay on her back. “Not so fast, sweetheart. Turnabout is fair play, after all.”

She gave him a coy smile that made his insides melt. “Is this a game, Mr. Gold?”

“Only if we both get to win.”

“I like the sound of – Oh!”

He cut off her train of thought by bringing his mouth to one puckered nipple and lathing it with his tongue. Her skin was exquisite and delightfully smooth. He busied himself with finding every little spot that made her moan or squeal or arch her back, travelling downward with kisses, licks, and nibbles. He could smell her arousal and it intoxicated him.

He lavished the insides of her thighs with affection, lightly stroking her through her knickers with one hand. Her underwear was soon gone with just a quick tug – to join his boxers in oblivion for all he cared.

Settling into a comfortable position at this angle proved to be a bit of a challenge for him, but he bent one leg and laid himself flat against the mattress. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to see to her pleasure before his own. It was easier to prop her legs over each shoulder like this and he asked her to do just that. She bit her lip and complied.

With her spread wantonly before him like a goddess, he was only too happy to supplicate in the best way he knew how. He dipped his mouth to her dripping sex and tasted her. Her intake of breath made him pulse in anticipation, grinding himself into the mattress. He traced her with his tongue, slowly remembering the things she had liked once before. Her legs were already beginning to tremble as she muttered endearments and encouragements laced with occasional profanity. His hand soon joined his mouth, thrusting one finger and then two. He curled them within her tight depths, hitting that spot. Her head dropped back onto the pillow as she arched her back and cried out her release.

He greedily licked her juices from his lips and pet her gently until she had come down. Seeing her in the throes of passion could easily become his new addiction, he thought. He wanted to tease her up that peak again as soon as she could handle it, but she was already clutching at him and pulling him back up her body.

“Please… Now, Angus. I need you now.”

He groaned at the feral surge of desire those words fueled. The nightstand's drawer felt miles away and he scrambled to grab the condom as quickly as he could. Once he retrieved it, she pushed him back down on the bed and straddled him.

She rolled the condom onto him quickly and aligned him with her entrance. He held himself as still as he could, though he was eager to buck his hips upward. As she slid slowly down, sheathing him inch by inch, they held eye contact. When he was fully encased in her tight heat they both moaned deeply. She rolled her hips and her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth moving inarticulately. He gripped her hips to remind himself that she was real, but allowed her to set the pace entirely. There was nothing in this world he could have wanted more than to watch her ride him with that look on her face.

He wanted this moment to stretch into eternity and overshadow every other. Just Belle above him and the sheer ecstasy of feeling her around him. He could wash away the sins of his past and all the bad memories, drinking in Belle's absolution. Being with her. Here. Now.

 He felt her gripping him and shuddering as she reached her peak. She collapsed against his chest and he covered her in a flurry of kisses. He dug his heels into the bed for leverage and pulled her down to wrap his arms around her.

She breathed his name, nipping at his shoulder, and bucked her hips. The last vestige of his control was lost. He needed to claim her as his own, to take her hard and deep.

He rolled them over and hitched her legs up about his hips. She growled her approval, her hips tilting to meet his every thrust, her nails clawing at his back. His body seemed to move of its own accord, frantic and needy. She gave a strangled cry and tightened once more around him, clutching him to her as she came. That was all it took.  As he spilled himself, he bit down on her shoulder to suppress the purely animalistic noises he could not contain. 

Belle was panting and his leg was screaming, but they exchanged sated grins as they settled on top of the sheets. They were too hot to move and too exhausted to talk. They would be bruised and scratched and sore in the morning. He smiled.

He would wear those wounds like badges of honor. 

He just hoped that Belle would feel the same.


	15. Will You Still Love Me, Tomorrow?

 

Waking up in Angus’s bed was far more comfortable than she would have ever suspected. They had dozed off on top of the sheets and woken up just long enough to tuck themselves in. She was curled up on her side with a sheet under chin. Angus’s body radiated warmth at her back, one of his arms snaked around her waist. She could feel his steady breath at the back of her neck.

Ok, so… now what?

She _had_ promised him breakfast. But the idea of getting up was just so utterly unappealing. The last time they had done this, she hadn’t stuck around for the afterglow. She turned her head as far as she could without moving her body. Out of the far corner of her eye she could just make out the relaxed smile on his face.

He was a handsome man, despite his fervent belief to the contrary. Her heart gave a little gallop at the thought that she could share this intimacy with him, now. It wasn’t about the sex. That was mind-blowing, to be certain. But there was an entirely different kind of thrill in knowing that he could let his guard down like this, with her.

Office gossip had told her enough about his personal life that she was certain she was one of a privileged few to see him so dissolute. She pressed her thighs together remembered the look of abandon with which he had plunged into her the night before.

Would it be wrong to wake him up for a repeat performance?

When she slept with Grayson, he had always curled up the other direction, snoring loudly until long after she woke up. She had never minded that, at the time.

She wondered if it was greedy to wake Angus so early to satisfy her own needs. Turning her head back to the pillow, she licked her lips and pressed her eyes closed. She could wait him out. He’d wake up all on his own and then she could go about seducing him.

The minutes ticked by.

Her body was starting to tingle with the anticipation. She moved carefully to bring one hand down between her legs – just to relieve some of the tension.

She shifted back and forth slightly, seeking out more sensation. As her hips drew back, she could feel Angus, hardened against her backside. She let out an involuntary gasp at the contact and rolled back enough to look at him over her shoulder.

His eyes were open, dark and unreadable. He swallowed. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

She smiled sheepishly, settling onto her back. “I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully.”

His voice was a rough whisper. “Sweetheart, you can always wake me for that.” He placed his hand over her damp one that currently rested just above her pelvis. He gently guided her hand back to where it had been. She was slick and aching with need. The pressure from his hand on her own was a new sensation and her body welcomed it hungrily. His fingers slid past hers and dipped into her folds. She rocked into their combined touch, whimpering. When he pushed a finger inside of her and crooked it, she felt herself break.

He moaned with her, pressing himself against her thigh. She turned her head to swallow the sound, rolling her body on top of his. He clutched at her arse and ground against her center. His tongue explored her mouth with tender determination.

She pulled back just enough to catch her breath. “Any more condoms?”

Looking crestfallen, he shook his head. “We used the last one last night.” He sighed. “That’s alright, I can wait.” He kissed her thoroughly once more, stilling his hips beneath her.

She made a face. “I should have some in my purse. I’m usually so responsible…. I just wasn’t expecting… well, this.”

He inclined his head. “Neither was I.”

Belle pulled herself up, transferring her weight to her own knees and his thighs. He was flushed and fully erect before her, standing proudly against his dark thatch of hair. She smiled coyly “You know, I could…” She dipped her head, but he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“As appealing as that is – and you are quite magnificent at it – I would rather be inside you.”

The words sent a shudder of pleasure through her. “I want that too.” She breathed.

He groaned. “Belle… We had better get out of this bed before I do something against my better judgment.”

She bit her bottom lip, thinking hard. “I am on the Pill.” She offered, finally. “And I got tested last month. Haven’t been with anyone but you since then.”

“Are you suggesting…?” His eyes were wide. “Belle, do not tempt me like this. The idea of feeling you around me without any barriers…. Christ.” His erection nodded and the purple tip was seeping clear fluid onto his belly.

She traced the vein on the underside with one finger. “Have you been tested recently?”

He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “After Boston, actually… no offense.”

She shrugged. “None taken. You didn’t really know me, then.”

“I’m not entirely certain I know you now.”

She pinned him with a sharp gaze. “Why do you say that?”

He shrunk back into the pillows and screwed his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean… I always say the wrong thing around you.” He sighed, clearly uncomfortable.

Belle smiled indulgently. At least he was aware of it. She moved off of his lap and fitted her body to his side, pulling up his arm to wrap around her. “Mm, I wonder why that is?”

He hesitated slightly before pulling her into him and kissing the top of her head. “Aren’t girls who look like you accustomed to men getting all tongue tied around them?” He teased, his brogue thickening just slightly.

She titled her head to look at him, affecting a pout. “Oh so it’s all about my looks, then?”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

She nuzzled his neck, planting little kisses to his pulse point. “It’s unlikely.” With one hand, she traced the line of hair that led downward to where he was still at half-mast despite the awkward turn in conversation. “Is it all about winning and losing?” She felt him shrug.

“Most things are.” His voice was neutral but his breath hitched as she curled her fingers around his heated flesh.

“I think that’s a very black and white way to look at the world.” She stroked him, feeling him start to twitch in her grasp.

He made a sound at the back of his throat, the hand at her side flexing against her skin. “I can only speak from my own experience of it.” He admitted gruffly, his hips rising to match her rhythm.

Even as her excited mounted, there was a twinge of sadness at the sheer bleakness of his confession, the hollow acceptance with which he stated his case. Her heart leapt into her throat and she kissed him with every ounce of compassion in her body. He kissed back fiercely, nipping at her lips.

His breathing was erratic now, as she continued to pump him. Her legs trembled as she lifted herself up to position him between her thighs again. He stopped moving, though he pulsed within her fist.

“We don’t have to…” He began again but she placed two fingers over his mouth. He kissed them gently and she smiled.

“I want to feel you, too, Angus. I want all of you. And I want you to know all of me. Everything I have to give, is yours to take.” She teased herself with his head against her clit, though she was already well prepared for him.

“Why?” He looked and sounded so fragile in that moment she thought her heart would break.

She took a deep breath and locked her eyes to his. “Because sometimes, it really does just work that way.” She slid onto him and they both gasped. She had never been flesh to flesh like this before. As perfect as he had felt before, it was intensified by a million tiny sensations. His eyes looked like they were about to roll back into his head, but he struggled to maintain contact with hers.

She rolled her hips, experimenting with the newness of it all. He grabbed her hips to stay them.

“May I?”

She nodded. He began to set the pace, maddeningly slowly. She lay down across his chest and traced his jaw and hairline with kisses. She could feel her pleasure start to mount as he drove himself leisurely, deliberately within her. She kissed him deeply, climbing even higher toward her peak as he buried one hand in her hair, tugging slightly.

His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist as his thrusting began to pick up pace. He was hot and hard and smooth as silk and she was bucking against him, burning to consume everything he could give her. The world fell away and nothing mattered but the man beneath her who was mumbling words she couldn’t quite make out against her shoulder. Everything went white, searing hot with a giddy euphoria.

When she could remember herself again, She looked down at the face of her lover. He wore an expression of awe and bliss she would not even have believed herself if she was not seeing it.

There would be other things to consider later, of course. She was a bit of a sticky mess, right now, even. But seeing him like this filled her up with warmth like she had never known. It felt right to be here, in his arms. Both of them limp with exertion.

She buried her head against his chest, listening as his heartbeat came back down. It was a different kind of “right” than she was used to. She might just be ok with that. 


	16. Ask Me No Questions (And I'll Tell You No Lies)

Belle’s return to Boston came up far too quickly for his liking. She had spent nearly every night (and some mornings) in his bed. They staggered their arrival at the office so as not to appear overly suspicious. He didn’t think it was helping much, though. At the last executive meeting Ms. Fa and Ms. Wolfe had been exchanging meaningful looks whenever he or Belle addressed one another. The two women left the room with their heads together, whispering like school girls.

Three days later, Ms. Nova and Mary Margaret had stopped talking, mid-sentence, when Angus entered the break room. Astrid turned a shade of purplish red and stammered out an excuse to leave. The soon-to-be Mrs. Prince simply offered an enigmatic smile and made small talk until he felt the need to retreat from her presence.

If he hadn’t been in such an unerringly delightful mood, it would have been insufferable.

David had the good sense not to say anything about it, of course. He quietly completed his duties and kept his opinions to himself. Good man, David. He buzzed Prince to let him know he would be going out for lunch. It was unlike him to leave the office before end of day, but he was in the mood to change up his routine. He hoped to relieve some of the restlessness he felt in Belle’s absence. There was no response, so he left a note on the desk. David was probably out cooing over his fiancée over a cozy lunch for two. For the first time in weeks, that thought did not turn his stomach.

“Well, I’m just saying, you gotta kiss some frogs before you find the right one, ya’ know?” Goldie’s melodic voice carried out of the front office as Angus headed to the lift.

There was a familiar male voice that replied. “Frogs, Toads, maybe even a Slug or two.”

“Talking about Regina, perhaps, Graham?” Another male voice asked, in a teasing tone.

“I said Slug, not Bitch. There’s a reason they called her the Evil Queen… but... there was a time I thought... doesn't matter now.” This was Graham. Angus recognized his lilt.

“I’m surprised to hear you say anything nice after…?” David’s voice trailed off.

As Angus stepped through the doorway, David Prince and Graham Humbert leapt away from Goldie’s desk, guilty faces still covered in cookie crumbs. A third man leaned casually against the wall, hands in his jean pockets.

“Who the hell are you boys talking about?” Goldie was looking around in surprise. “Oh, hello Mr. Gold. Cookie? I got Oatmeal Molasses and Ginger Snaps!” She half stood to shove the Tupperware box under his nose.

He bit back a sneer and simply waved the box away politely. “Perhaps after lunch, dear. Thank you.” He narrowed his eyes at David and Graham. “If you gentleman have nothing better to do than hang around and bother Goldie with idle gossip, might I suggest a few assignments?”

The unknown man pulled away from the wall and loped over to Angus, with a half smirk on his face but very serious eyes. “We were all on our way out to lunch. You must be Mr. Gold. I’ve heard a _lot_ about you. Care to join us?”

There was something entirely familiar about the man, but slightly alien. They were similar in height and build, but the man wore his own, slightly lighter hair cropped close to his head. Angus was genuinely confused as to whether the invitation had been sarcastic.

Graham stepped forward and wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders. “Mr. Gold, this is my partner Grey. Grey, as you guessed, this is my boss.”

Angus shook Grey’s hand with a tight smile. “I wasn’t aware I was the subject of so much conversation.” The name was vaguely familiar. Graham had probably mentioned him in the past.

Graham shook his head. “No sir. I don’t like to bring my work home with me.”

Grey’s smile spread to his eyes as his free arm slipped around Graham’s waist. “Yeah, don’t worry, Graham doesn’t talk about work. You just make a hell of an impression on certain people, ya’ know? Sometimes they talk about you more than they realize. Especially when they’ve got a few drinks in ‘em.” He winked.

Angus opened and shut his mouth as realization dawned. He fought back a flush of heat rising in his cheeks. Obviously, Grey was acquainted with his little Belle. Angus suddenly felt very exposed.

He was grateful when the elevator sounded and broke the tension.

“So,” Grey raised an eyebrow. “Lunch?”

“No, thank you. I.. have made other arrangements.” Angus lied easily, dismissing them with a tilt of his head.

The men walked off together, David following close behind, noticeably avoiding eye contact with him.

“Not ordering in, today, Sir?” Goldie looked up from her desk.

“No, I think I’ll take a walk.” Angus pressed the elevator button once more. The next car arrived quickly and he boarded it without a backward glance.

Once he was tucked into a corner of the diner with his paper and a coffee, he allowed himself to ruminate. He turned over the snippet of conversation with Grey. There was something imminently likable about the younger man. In Angus’s experience, this made him highly untrustworthy. However, any friend of Belle’s could be a useful ally.

Whatever was forming between them was nearly unexplored territory for him. She wasn’t using him to accomplish a goal, so far as he could tell. She didn’t need or want his money. The sex was intimate and intense, not at all transactional. In a few short weeks, he felt as though he had known her for years.

_What on earth could it mean?_

Not wanting to dwell on the thoughts that would no doubt lead down dangerous paths, he turned his attention to the business section of his paper.

Another ploy by Hart Industries had made headlines and he grit his teeth. Booth’s number was, sadly, on speed dial these days.

“This is Booth – unless you’re my bookie, in which case August Booth died last year, may he rest in peace. Anyone else, please leave a message after the tone”

\-- BEEP

Gold’s upper lip curled involuntarily at the smug recorded voice. “Booth, you promised me results from your little investigation this week. Hart is making a play for the Harper Company and I had to read about it in the fucking paper. You get one more chance to square this up. Don’t disappoint me.” He jabbed at the phone screen viciously to end the call.

“That sounded like some nasty business.” Grey was standing by his booth, head cocked to the side.

“Are you following me? I’m flattered, really, but you’re not my type.” Angus glared at the man.

“Happily taken, mate. But I did want a moment of your time. No more. Won’t bother you again.”

Angus bristled. “I’ve no business with you. Graham got his Christmas bonus fair as everyone else and no I can’t afford any more raises, right now.”

Grey smiled and ducked casually into the booth, as though he had been invited. “Not about Graham. He’s quite happy with his pay, though another bonus wouldn’t go amiss before the wedding.” He grinned. “Belle’s a friend of mine ya’ know?”

“I had gathered as much.” Angus replied testily.

“She’s got a hell of a heart on her, doesn’t she? I’d take it as something very personal if someone as sweet and good-natured as Belle ever got hurt by anyone. I think a lot of people on your staff would too. I mean, for all she’s been here a couple months, Mary Margaret and Ruby have gotten very attached to her.” Grey’s grin never wavered as he spoke, leaning forward over the table. His eyes never left Gold’s.

Angus released a sarcastic bark of a laugh. “Are you threatening me, lad?”

“Not at all, Mr. Gold. I have the utmost respect for you as a man and a businessman. I would never even think of such a thing. I just thought that perhaps you could use a reminder that friendship has a value that wealth can never match. When you have someone you care about, you want to… ensure no harm will come to them.” The younger man’s tone was light, though his steady gaze told a different story.

He really was concerned. A part of Angus was touched. Another part of Angus wanted to smash him in the face with his cane for even implying that he would possibly harm Belle. Yet… he had, in his way, harmed her with his indelicate words. He had lashed at her more than once with his razor-sharp layers of protective sarcasm. He gripped his cane tightly under the table with white knuckled rigidity. For several minutes neither man spoke.

Finally, Angus nodded slowly, his face hard. “I see my reputation has preceded me, as it often does. I am a… difficult man, I admit, and I can understand your concern. Belle is a flicker of light in nearly a lifetime of darkness. I would no more extinguish her flame than cut out my own twisted heart.”

Grey leaned back in his seat, his shoulders relaxing. “I was right about you. Thank you, Mr. Gold.” He rose and turned to leave.

“Grey.”

He looked back.

“If you were my employee, I’d have fired you by now.”

There was that infuriating grin. “I’ve no doubt. Thank Christ I’m self-employed, eh?”

The corner of Angus’s mouth twitched upward. “Your boss is a meddlesome fool.”

Grey laughed. “Take care, Mr. Gold.”

He sauntered away, presumably back to wherever he had been sitting with Graham and David. Angus felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It was Booth.

“About damned time.”

“Sorry, sorry. I had to do a check on the information Glass gave me. I don’t think we can trust it. He said he’s pissed at Regina for letting him take the fall, but I think he’s still in her pocket.” Booth sounded out of breath.

Angus snorted “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Ok, here’s something you don’t know. One of the investors Regina and Cora have been courting is this new tech start-up guy. Everyone says he could be the next Zuckerberg, or some shit. Anyway, he goes by a fake name, so it took me a while to get through his records. Turns out, he was a hacker back in school. He was almost arrested a couple times but they could never pin anything on him. Then he went legit and started his company. I think there could be something worth using, if we can keep digging the dirt on him.”

Angus pulled a pad of paper and pen out of his pocket. “I can make some additional inquiries. What’s his name?”

“He goes by Neal Cassidy, these days, but his expat records show he was born Bailey Gold. Any relation?”

Angus dropped the phone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Grey Hughes borrowed from the incomparable NothingEverLost!  
> Her Tumblr: http://nothingeverlost.tumblr.com/


	17. Stay With Me

Apartment hunting was taking its toll on Belle. She really didn’t need the kind of space the realtors kept insisting on showing her. No matter how many times she insisted she was not looking for a place with “room for a nursery”, they inevitably ended up bringing her to 2 bedroom apartments in “good” school districts. One particularly insistent trio of older women (debatably related to one another) fussed so much over the color of the window dressings that she had slipped out of the door and was halfway down the hall before they noticed.

After another frustrating evening, she slid into bed with her laptop, hoping Angus would already be on Skype. If nothing else, hearing his voice would be a comfort.

Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. She chatted pleasantly with Ruby for a bit and caught up on some local news with Grey before signing off with a sigh.

Was it needy to call him? He was usually online this time of night, eager to hear about her day, grudgingly admitting that he missed her smile in his office and her scent in his sheets. She grinned at that thought. Perhaps he’d just gotten busy with work.

The minutes dragged by. Belle squinted at her phone as if she could read his mind through the telecommunication device alone. Growling at her own childish impatience, she pressed his contact.

It rang several times before he answered.

“Yeah?” His voice was low and rough

“Angus?”

“Belle….” She heard something clatter and muffled cursing. “Now… now’s not a good time, sweetheart.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just feeling under the weather, is all.” He answered a little too hastily.

“I’m only a quick plane ride away. I can come back to New York early and come take care of you. I’ll call Archie and let him know my schedule is changing.” She grabbed her suitcase, already mostly packed, and laid it on the bed.

“No. No need to bother with all that. I’ll be fine.” There was series of clicking sounds. 

“Angus, there’s something you’re not telling me."

“I’ve got to go, Belle. Work to do.” The line went dead.

Belle called back twice but it went straight to voicemail. She glared down at the phone, drawing herself up and doing a poor imitation of his brogue.

“It was nice to hear from you too, Belle. So sweet of you to offer to come take care of me, Belle. You’re just about the nicest person I’ve ever known, Belle. It’s a shame I’m such a miserable, secretive wanker, I can’t let you care about me even when I’m obviously hurting.” She huffed loudly into her empty room.

It was nearly a week before she was due back in New York, but Archie had things running so smoothly at FTL, she didn’t feel like she would be missed if she left a little early. She was surprised her father had even given her that account. They had been in business together for so long; she could have done her part with a few emails and faxes per day.

She didn’t mind coming into the office. Archie was always a friendly face and ran a very loyal and enthusiastic crew of like-minded workers. There was no real sense of hierarchy, but the work got done through collective efforts. It was a stark contrast to Gold’s rather more Machiavellian structure.

 “Well, fine. If that’s the way he wants it, he can take care of himself. I’ve got plenty to do around here.” She shoved the suitcase under the bed and paced the floor, arms crossed. “I mean, it’s not like I could just drop everything and fly out there, anyway. What was I thinking? I have responsibilities here.” She stopped her pacing, remembering the way his voice had faltered over the obvious lie. “It’s not my place.” She argued to no one. “I’m sure he’s fine.” That felt hollow even to her own ears. She smoothed her hands down the front of her robe, dropping her chin to her chest. “Goddammit." 

It took only a few minutes to change her flight. With a quick text to Archie, she was free to fly out the next morning. Her gut told her there was something important going on. If Angus was not going to be forthcoming over the phone, she would have to get it out of him the old fashioned way. If it was nothing, she could always fly back.

He wasn’t in the office when she got there at noon. Goldie said he hadn’t been in all day. David looked worried and said they hadn’t seen much of him since lunchtime the day before.

As she was heading out, David stopped her.

“Um look, Belle, I think you should probably know – Grey may have said a word or two to him about you yesterday. We tried to talk him out of it, but… well, you know he’s a stubborn sort when he wants to be.” David gave a half-hearted smile.

“What the…. What did Grey say?” Her hands rested on her hips.

“Not sure but it wasn’t unpleasant from what I could tell. Gold didn’t look like he was upset when Grey left or anything. Grey came back smiling and said they got on well.”

She took a long, deep breath. “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t think it has to do with his mysterious disappearance.

Mary Margaret approached, resting a hand on David’s shoulder. “I don’t think so, honey. Gold never misses work like this. He once came in with a fever of 103. He was talking to phantoms half the day and still got the stock up by 2 points.”

Ruby saw them all together and sauntered over. “You gonna go check on your man, or what?”

Belle looked back and forth between the three of them and twisted her mouth. “So, the whole office already knows, huh?”

“We aren’t much for keeping secrets around here.” The voice at her back was Astrid, who offered an apologetic half-smile.

Belle threw her hands up in surrender. “That’s fine. It’s fine, really. But before anyone goes making any assumptions, I’d rather you just ask me. Not right now, though. Now, I’ve got to go find the out what the hell is going on.”

David looked around and slipped something into her hand. “It’s his spare key. No one but MM knows I even have this. For emergencies, only.”

Belle pursed her lips. “I don’t want you to lose your job over this.”

 David shook his head. “Knock first and if he still doesn’t answer… it’s worth the risk.”

She felt a lump rise in her throat. “You guys really do care don’t you?”

MM shrugged. “He’s not always easy, but no one is totally heartless.” She blushed a little “If it weren’t for him, David and I might never have ended up together.”

That piqued her curiosity but she tucked it away for a more appropriate time. “Thank you.”

“Good luck, babe!” Ruby called after her.

The taxi to Angus’s penthouse did not take long in midday traffic. The doorman recognized her and admitted her without comment. Standing outside his door, she squared her shoulders and set her chin. He did not respond the first couple times she knocked. Then she tried the bell.

Nothing.

She gripped the key in one sweating palm. _Ok, here goes. Have a little backbone, French._

The lock turned over quietly and she slipped inside the door. The place was dark, the curtains drawn together tightly over the bay windows. It was so quiet, she could practically hear her own heartbeat.

There.

Just down the hall.

She could hear the vaguest shuffling and then a clicking noise. She followed it to a closed door past the bedroom. Heart in her throat, she knocked softly. “Angus? Angus, it’s me. It’s Belle.”

The clicking stopped. There was silence. Then it resumed. “Go away, Belle. I’m not… fit for company, now.” There was the dry echo of a humorless chuckle.

There was no lock on this door, she noted. “I’m not _company_. I’m your lover. And I’m coming in.” She turned the handle before he could move to stop her. The door pushed inward, knocking over a stack of papers. It was filled with filing cabinets, many of which had disorderly stacks of folders atop them. There were no decorations on the wall. Angus sat at a desk, illuminated only by the blue light of a computer screen. His hand on the mouse had been the source of the clicking. His other hand rested limply by the keyboard.

There was a mostly empty bottle of expensive whiskey to one side of the screen and a picture frame to the other. She couldn’t quite make out the picture. Angus looked haggard. His hair was a mess, a stained button-down shirt hung open on his shoulders and his trousers were wrinkled. His eyes were glassy and red. The floor around his feet was scattered with used tissues and cigarette butts.

Belle exhaled sharply at the sight, crossing quickly to him. She wanted to touch him, pull him to her and tell him that she would make it all better. She hadn’t the slightest idea what it was but, she had never thought she would see him like this.

“Angus, why… what happened?” She sunk to her knees beside him, brushing aside the debris. “Please, tell me, sweetheart. I want to help you.”

 His gaze never strayed from the screen. His voice was stilted and far away. “Help? No… No that’s what I do... I help. I help everyone, for a price. There’s always a price to pay… I knew that. I did it anyway… I did what I’ve always done. I ran away. I stopped fighting. It got tough and I got out.”

Her heart wrenched at the abject misery in his tone. She reached tentatively out and stroked at his tangled hair. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me be here for you.” Her voice nearly cracked as she fought back tears. “Please, Angus.”

 He looked at her as though he barely recognized her. “I lost him.”

“I’m so sorry… Who did you lose, sweetheart?”

Wordlessly, he handed her the picture frame. It was a school portrait of a boy, maybe 11 or 12 years old. He had an impish smile and a mop of dark curls on his head. More importantly, he had his father’s dark eyes.

Bailey.

She only remembered the name vaguely but with just the first glance, she knew it had to be Angus’s son. She knew there was a lot of history there, something to do with an ex-wife, the son getting trapped in the middle. She was bursting with a torrent of questions but the haunted look that Angus gave put a stopper in them before they could produce even a trickle.

It didn’t matter how or why. It mattered that man she cared about (loved? Yes, that was the word for it. It couldn't really be denied, at this point.) was in pain. She gathered him to her and he did not protest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and his shoulders began to shake. She felt the hot rush of tears spilling onto her skin and only held him tighter. She whispered soft words into his hair.

When he was finally spent, she pulled him up from the chair and allowed him to lean most of his weight on her. They made a slow trek to the bedroom. He collapsed onto the mattress as she ran a hot bath. Undressing him was a bit of a challenge, as he seemed more inclined to lay in bed like a rag doll.

“C’mon, love. Let’s get you cleaned up, ok?” She murmured

He swallowed, still staring with those big round eyes, puffier now for their earlier exertion. He nodded and helped her shuck his remaining clothing. He limped to the tub, holding onto her hand.

When she made to step away, he pulled her to him. A shaking hand plucked at her blouse. “Stay?”She nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.

his face relaxed into the ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Belle.”


	18. Cause Baby I'm a Nightmare Dressed Like a Daydream

This had to be a dream. After he had continually pushed her away and closed her out, Belle could not possibly be sitting at his back in his large whirlpool tub, washing his hair.

 Men like Angus Gold did not get their hair washed by beautiful, intelligent, caring Goddesses like Belle French.

 He closed his eyes against the rush of warm water. If this was a dream, he would be very, very happy never to wake up again.

 “They were worried about you at the office.” She broke the silence.

 He made a non-committal sound at the back of his throat. That sounded highly unlikely. They hated him at the office. This must be a dream then. He sank back against her, his head lolling on her shoulder, her breasts pushed deliciously against his back.

 “I was worried about you.” It wasn’t quite an admonishment, but he felt apologetic nonetheless. Goddesses need not worry about their acolytes, after all.

 “M’sorry.” The words were muffled against her neck and her damp hair.

 “I know. And I understand if you aren’t ready to talk about it.”  

 Talk about it. Talk about what? How he was such an obscene failure as a father that his only son had disowned him? Talk about how Bailey had been in New York for nearly 4 years without making any effort at contact? He shook his head, clenching his eyes shut against tears there were no longer there. He had cried himself dry.

Belle wrapped one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulder, the palm lying flat against his chest. “I’ve lost someone I love, too. I know how much it hurts. I’m here. Whether you want to talk or not. Please know that I’m here.” She squeezed him to her. 

In other circumstances, the press of her naked body would have elicited a very different reaction. Now, despite a small stirring from below, his stomach lurched unpleasantly. Guilt, he recognized. He had led her to believe that Bailey was dead. He may as well be, for all that Angus’s starry eyed dreams of a teary reunion had been smashed to smithereens.

 He had thought that, despite his neglect of his son in favor of his work, Bailey still loved him and wanted them to be a family. It was a naïve hope, he recognized that, even then. But it had been so easy to place the blame on Milah. Milah kept Bailey from him with a barricade of lawyers. Angus’s legal situation was too precarious to launch a full out war, but he had sent in troops for years to keep the custody battle open. Once Bailey turned 17 and went to Uni, Angus thought they would be free to reunite. He swore Milah was hiding his boy out of spite. He’d had spies all over Europe, looking.

But Bailey had made his way to America. They had been on the same continent, in the same city and he had never even known it. He was a man with a company and a family of his own, now. Angus had been researching him online all night. There were plenty of articles about Neal Cassidy, the genius software engineer. None of them had had pictures. Neal flew very low on the radar. If it weren’t for a few staff photos that Booth had unearthed and emailed, Angus would not even know what son looked like these days. He had changed his name, cropped his hair, and grown facial hair. His eyes were still the same.

Still exactly the fucking same.

He groaned aloud before he could stop himself. 

"Time for bed?" Belle asked gently. His body stirred again but it was very unlikely he'd be at full attention until some of the alcohol was out of his system. Still, it couldn't hurt to keep his lovely Belle close by. 

"If you'll join me?" He managed at last. He could feel her smile against his forehead.

"Only to sleep, right now I think."

He nodded his reluctant assent and she helped him out of the tub. They dried off and fell into bed. And then the world went black 

When he came to, the curtains were drawn but Belle had turned on a small table lamp. She was absorbed in the book propped on her lap. She was so captivatingly beautiful in her repose that he didn't even want to announce his consciousness. She glanced over and met his eyes, her gaze was heartrendingly tender. 

"Morning." He rumbled.

"Evening, actually." She helped rearrange the pillows as he sat up and then handed him a glass of water and some painkillers. 

After he had taken the pills with a long pull of the water, he sighed heavily. "You are an angel." 

"Hardly. I just know when someone is worth fighting for."

His heart leapt into his throat. "I don't suppose I make it easy." 

She reached a cool hand under his chin, turning his face toward her. "Nothing worth doing ever is. I'm in your corner, Angus, whether you want me here or not - "

"I always want you here, Belle. Please never doubt that." He grasped her hands impulsively, covering them with his own. "But... you may not see things that way much longer. There are things I haven't told you. You deserve to know everything before we go any further." He trembled under the weight of so many unspoken secrets. But he would not let her continue on with him unless he was completely honest about his past. That way, when she inevitably ran from him, it could be a fully informed decision. 

So he unburdened himself, slowly and haltingly, squeezing his eyes shut at the more difficult parts. Belle's forehead crinkled as he explained his troubled history with his son and her mouth twisted at the mention of his torrid affair with Cora. However her reassuring nods and caresses made him brave enough to relate all the necessary details.

When it was finished, his breath was coming a little too fast and his palms were sweating. "Some of these things are known because I couldn't keep them out of the gossip columns, but Bailey... No one else knows about him yet besides my investigator. I won't think less of you if you would prefer to sever our... romantic connection."

"Why would you say that?" There was genuine hurt in her bright eyes. 

"Belle, my own son couldn't bear to be in my life... I can't ask you to dim your light for-"

"Bullshit." 

He sat up straighter. "Beg pardon?"

She moved from where she had been sitting cross-legged as he talked to straddling his hips. "You. You're so ready to just wallow in self pity and let it swallow you up. I understand that Bailey is angry with you and he is absolutely right to be. But instead of trying to fix it, you take the coward's way out and just crawl into a bottle while doing Google research on him? And now that I know, you think I care so little that I'll just walk away. Would that make it easier for you to keep believing that no one can love you? It's bullshit and you know it."

There wasn't a single word left that could describe how he felt when the full meaning of her words sunk in. His voice was a hoarse whisper as he choked back a rising tide of emotion. "Are you saying that you could? Love me?"

Her face softened. "I'm saying that I _do_ love you, you infuriating, difficult, ridiculous man."

This moment could have contained his very last breath and he could not have imagined a happier way to go. "And I love you, too"

Her lips were on him before he could breathe or think and they were kissing like they had been born to do so. 

She rolled onto her back and he settled between her legs, testing her readiness quickly before sliding home. There would be another time for teasing and long drawn out foreplay. Right now, he needed to be inside of her, to feel her clench around him and remind him that she was real. Her legs wrapped around his hips, urging him on. Her hands clasped him close, stroking the side of his face, drawing her nails up his back. He was so close and she was pulsing around him. So hot. So tight.

He exploded with a fevered profession of love on his lips and felt her follow him, milking him, drawing out both of their pleasure.

They lay there for several minutes, not speaking, just holding one another close.

Belle was right (of course she was). He was terrified of being loved, because he felt undeserving, and so he pushed it away. But if this magnificent woman in his arms could love him, perhaps there was still a chance. His blackened heart truly could learn to beat again.

Angus Gold was not a man accustomed to feeling hope, but he couldn’t find any other word for it. He was ready to go back to work.

For now, there was a sleepy woman that he adored snoring lightly on his chest and that felt even better.

 


	19. The Party Don't Start til I Walk In

Belle's mind was racing.

She had spent the last three nights with Angus and the last two days looking for an apartment. Her father had been less than surprised when she told him that she had decided to stay in New York. Archie had been disappointed that she wouldn't be at the office for two weeks at a time anymore, but he understood. They would continue working via telecommunications and she would fly in every few months for an in-person meeting.

Angus, for his part, had returned to the office and pretended his mysterious absence never happened. Mary Margaret and Ruby had both texted her for the full scoop, but she stayed tight-lipped. It was not her story to tell.

Mary Margaret's bachelorette party was tonight. She and David had reserved two large tables at a local bar/restaurant. One for the men and one for the women, but still side by side. She couldn't decide if spending their stag night together was charming or just a little co-dependent, but she was happy for them nonetheless.

All of this left her standing in a boutique that was decidedly overpriced and staring at 4 dresses the chirpy salesgirl had hung up on the wall of the dressing room. They were all lovely in their way, but she only needed one. Angus would probably like the way the blue one brought out her eyes. She shook her head. He probably wasn't going, anyway. She had meant to ask him about it, this morning but got... distracted. She flushed at the memory, his hands tracing pathways across her skin that made her squirm and whimper, his breath hot on her neck, how he slid home with a groan. She took a sip of the champagne the sales girl had provided. It did little to cool her off, but the fizzy bit of distraction was welcome.

"I'll take the blue." She pronounced, happy to have at least made that decision. As the woman rung her up, she texted Angus about the party. If he wasn't going, perhaps she would leave early and surprise him. A stop by the lingerie store couldn't hurt, either way.

2 hours and some credit card debt later, Belle carted her new treasures back to Gold's penthouse. Still no word back from Angus, but it wasn't unusual for him to miss texts during the day. She fixed herself a cup of tea and perused his library until it was time to get ready.  He had cleared a drawer for her the second night she was here and she lingered, staring down at it. It was too early to even consider moving in with him, wasn't it? Their courtship had been tumultuous enough. And yet... He was already making room for her in so many little ways. Her shampoo and conditioner were in his shower, she knew where everything was in his kitchen, her toothbrush sat next to his in the bathroom. Now she had a drawer.

She pursed her lips. "Enough of that thinking, for now. It's a party and I want to have a good time. Goodness knows trying to read than man's mind has never done me any favors."

She pulled on the new dress and called a cab to the bar.

*** 

Though Belle was early, Mary Margaret was already there, giggling with Ruby and two other women Belle didn't recognize. Ruby motioned her over.

"Hey! Join the party! The boys aren't here yet. They decided to stop for cigars, even though they can't smoke 'em anywhere near here." Ruby rolled her eyes and smiled.

Mary Margaret hugged her tightly, drink in one hand. "So glad you could make it! I was afraid you might have had to go back to Boston or something."

"No. I'm, uh, I'm moving here, actually. Permanently."

Mary Margaret's eyes got wider than Belle would have thought possible. "Did Gold... did he... I mean, are congratulations in order for you too?"

Belle blushed heavily. "Oh, no. Not that. I mean, not yet. I mean, we haven't even discussed... So, what's everyone drinking?"

Ruby laughed and soon pushed something frozen and sweet into her hand. She was introduced to the other women. Bubbly and red-haired Ariel was Mary Margaret's former college roommate. The serious-faced blonde was Emma, a childhood friend. They, along with Ruby, were to be the bridesmaids. Emma, a police officer, had been in the middle of expressing a desire to run security for the wedding in her uniform, but Mary Margaret had managed to talk her back into a dress.

"It will hide the thigh holster better, anyway." Emma shrugged into her beer.

"And you will be the one who ends up outshining the bride." Mary Margaret teased.

"Impossible!" Ruby declared "But I will be the one hooking up with the single groomsmen." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Yeah, and I'll be the one who trips over her own feet as we walk down the aisle." Ariel grinned, taking a long draw from her crazy straw.

Belle felt instantly akin to the petite redhead. "I did that once! I was a flowergirl at my aunt's wedding and I don't even know what I tripped over but I swear I almost did a somersault. Petals went everywhere!"

Everyone laughed together and began sharing their own embarrassing stories. When the boys arrived, Belle's heart sunk a little to note that Angus was not among their number. It buoyed her spirits, though, when Grey and Graham each insisted on taking her for a spin around the dance floor.

Breathless and giggling, she called off the next dance and returned to her seat. Ariel was on the floor with a handsome dark haired man and Mary Margaret was taking shots with Ruby, but Emma was still there. She nodded as Belle sat down.

“This crowd will wear you out, if you’re not careful.”

Belle laughed, “Well, there are certainly worse ways to go! How long are you in town?”

“Oh, I live here. Ariel’s the one visiting.” The blonde corrected with a smirk. “We moved here a few years ago, I just haven’t been out and about as much since the kid was born. If Ruby’s granny hadn’t volunteered to watch him, I don’t even know if I would’ve made it out tonight.”

“Oh! Do you have a boy or a girl?”

“Boy. Henry.” Emma pulled up a photo on her phone.

“He looks just like you!” Belle exclaimed. There was a flicker of recognition in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite place it.

 For the first time all night, Emma’s face softened into a genuine smile. “People always say that, but I think he looks just like his dad.” She flicked to the next couple of photos, a school picture where Henry was missing both front teeth, Henry and Emma in wet suits, and a blurry photo of Henry perched on the shoulders of a man Belle presumed to be Henry’s father.

Before she could further pursue the conversation, Ruby waltzed back over with shots in each hand. “Ok, time to put away the baby pictures, Emma! Tonight’s for the grownups!” She pushed a shot glass into each of their hands. “Speaking of which, where is that husband of yours?”

“Hiding from you probably.” Emma deadpanned, knocking back her drink without hesitation.

Ruby guffawed. “After last time, I could understand that!” She turned to Belle. “I drank that sucker under the table.”

Emma rolled her eyes but her mouth quirked upward. “Sure, Rube. And then there was the part where you both nearly passed out and I had to load you one at a time into the cab to go home.” She flagged down the waiter and ordered a couple of waters. “He’s at work now, but he said he’d try to stop by later, so… pace yourself.”

Ruby grinned and planted a kiss on Emma’s cheek as she left the table. “It really is good to see you, again, Em.”

The night became a whirlwind of new faces, fruity drinks and dance. Maggie Fa brought her partner, Rory.  Goldie introduced everyone to her new boyfriend, a ruggedly handsome man who flashed a pearly white smile. Astrid had even managed to convince her curmudgeonly husband to attend. Belle’s very silent phone weighed heavily in her elegant little purse. She doggedly chased away the concern, dancing with abandon and singing along to the cheesy Pop music.

Suddenly, it slowed to a romantic ballad. Belle was very aware of all the couples that gathered around her. Emma, the only other partnerless person in attendance, shrugged and extended a hand to her. Belle took it gratefully. Emma was a little stiff but she lead the dance with confidence and Belle found herself increasingly fond of the tall blonde.

Suddenly, there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find herself looking up into a face she would have recognized anywhere, though it was the not the one she was expecting. She bit back a shocked gasp as Bailey Gold, alias Neal Cassidy, smiled down at her.

“Do you mind if I cut in?”

Belle shook her head mutely. Emma’s face lit up as Neal gathered her to him, rumbling an apology for his tardiness.

“You’re here now.” Emma murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

Belle hurried from the dance floor, fishing around in her evening bag for her phone.

 _Angus probably isn’t coming_. She thought.  _Would it be better if he didn’t?_

Her thumb lingered over the contact button when she noticed a missed call. She must not have felt it with the music vibrating the dance floor. It was from Angus. He’d left a brief voicemail that he’d gotten a late start heading out of the office and stopped to pick up champagne, but he was on his way.

Her stomach clenched and her throat was tight.

_He needs to know. He needs to be prepared for this._

She pressed his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belle's outfit, in case anyone was curious: http://www.polyvore.com/belle_at_engagement_party/set?id=122101201


	20. Our Hopes and Expectations, Black Holes and Revelations

Angus was running very, very late.

He wasn’t accustomed to being late. Perhaps it was due to his wealth and position in the world, but it was rare that he had to work around any timeframe but the one he had chosen for himself.

In this case, however, his irritatingly likeable affianced staff members had chosen the time and place. He had, as was usual on a Friday, been buried under a mountain of paperwork. Belle’s texts had gone long unseen. Finally deeming the work sufficiently under control, he had the whimsical notion to surprise his darling little Belle by actually showing up at a social event.

Since when did he ever have whimsical notions? He chose to lay the blame squarely at the tiny high-heel clad feet of his lover. She brought out desires in him of more than just the flesh. While he would only grudgingly admit her influence (something like sunlight breaking through a storm cloud) some part of him was unspeakably glad for it. Another part almost feared the power she could wield with just a few gentle words.

Cruelty could never break him; he was hardened against it. But kindness? Tenderness? Those might just prove deadly, if he wasn’t careful.

He shook off the reverie and glanced again at his watch. The party would still be in full swing if he knew his spirited staff. He hefted a moderately high priced bottle of champagne in one hand and his cane in the other, striding purposefully into the colorful bar. A bouncer eyed him briefly before waving him inward. His phone was buzzing in his pocket. Whoever was calling would need to wait until he had at least one hand free.

Belle was easy to spot, dressed in a delicate confection of royal blue chiffon. It would bring out her eyes nicely in better lighting. He smiled and headed toward her. She was on her phone, her back to him, her free hand gesturing emphatically.

Giving Belle a moment to finish her conversation, he glanced around for the guests of honor. They were on the dance floor, surrounded by other familiar faces.

And then his heart nearly stopped.

_It couldn’t be._

_Not here._

_He’d have no reason to be here._

Everything went dark around the edges and he was vaguely aware of a crashing noise. Just as several heads turned his way, he found he had backed himself into a chair, to stop from collapsing. The cane and expensive bottle had slipped from his fingers, the latter shattered on the hard wooden floor. People’s mouths were moving, but all he could hear was a high pitched keening noise, echoing over the thudding of his too-fast heartbeat.

The world narrowed to a pair of dark eyes meeting his from across the room. They could have been toe to toe or worlds apart for all he could tell.

All he knew was that Bailey’s eyes were confused, surprised, hurt and cold. So very, very cold.

He tried to find his voice, swallowing hard. “Bae?” His voice was like sandpaper. The name tasted like raw regret and he wanted to say it over and over, just to remind himself that it was real. This was really happening.

A blonde woman approached him slowly, blocking his view of his son. He leaned to the side to look past her, but started to lose his balance. He felt himself being righted in the chair. The world slowly began to take shape around her. Now he could see the open concern on her face. He could smell Belle’s perfume as she stroked his hair, softly and rhythmically. In his peripheral, he saw Grey was the one holding him steady.

The blonde woman stopped in front of him and crouched, avoiding the glass shards, picking up his cane. She handed it to him, their eyes locking. “You’re Angus Gold, aren’t you?”

He nodded, dry-mouthed, as the woman rose and tilted her head to one side. She was wary but not entirely unfriendly. There was a spark of curiosity she was trying desperately not to show.

“And you are?” He finally managed.

She extended a hand. It was warm and calloused when he shook it, with an unnervingly strong grip. “I’m Emma - ” She hesitated and glanced behind her before turning back to him and squaring her shoulders. “I’m Emma Cassidy. Your daughter-in-law.”

A few gasps rose up behind him, but he retained his composure. “That’s a beautiful name, Emma.”

“I’ve always thought so.” The low voice belonged to his son, who now appeared at Emma’s shoulder.

 _A man’s voice_ , Angus thought. So much time had passed. So much time lost.

Emma instinctively took her husband’s hand.

For the second time that night, Angus got to look his son in the eye. This time, he managed to keep himself in check. He leaned onto his cane (momentarily forgetting how much he hated being seen depending on it) and pulled himself upright onto his feet.

A tremor ran through Bailey. For all the confidence he was clearly attempting to excude, his grip on his wife’s hand was white-knuckled. He looked ready to bolt at any second, but Emma clearly kept him grounded.

"Bae...." It was rare that Angus Gold was at a loss for words. Words were his life. Contracts, deals, and clever turns of phrase were his bread and butter. Now, at the most essential time for them, every word he had ever known, save his son's name, seemed to desert him.

"It's Neal now, actually."

"It was Bailey when you came into this world. So small I could hold you in the crook of my arm..." Angus smiled forlornly.

"Well, I'm a lot less portable, now. And it's Neal." His face was hard but there was a hint of amusement there too, a mischevious bent, remniscent of the boy he'd once been.

"And I should never have let you go... Neal."

The crowd behind him was starting to shuffle back around to whatever various activities had been interupted when Angus' near fainting fit caused a scene. The music turned back up and a barkeep began sweeping up the glass.

 Neal gave a humourless laugh. "Let me? It's hard to hold onto something when you forget it exists."

Angus flinched. "I did call..." He shook his head, realizing how weak that argument was. "No. No you're right, son. I abandoned you. When Milah stole you away, I just... buried myself in work and gave up." His eyes pricked with tears. "I was a coward, Bae. I've always been a coward. But I am sorry. There isn't a day goes by that I am not so, so sorry to have missed out on so much of your life... I... I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't deserve it. But I'm grateful that I got to say those words to you, to see the wonderful handsome man you've become." He nodded to Emma. "To meet your beautiful wife." 

Neal's mouth pressed to a thin line but his eyes had grown misty. He swallowed and looked away. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"We invited him." Mary Margaret stepped forward. David followed closely behind, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

Angus' eyes flicked to them and he shrugged heavily. "David and Mary Margaret are in my employ."

Emma's eyebrow rose. "Small world." She muttered to no one in particular. 

David moved away from his fiance to place a hand on Angus' shoulder. "It's more than that. Without Mr. Gold..." He looked at Neal. "Without your... father, Mary Margaret and I might never have started dating." He chuckled. "Mr. Gold gave me the kick in the pants I needed at just the right time." 

Neal snorted. "Yeah, he can be the pants-kicking type."

David nodded. "I'll never forget it. It was Valentine's Day and I was miserable. My ex-wife and I were holding onto something we both knew was not working. My father kept insisting I stay in the marriage, telling me 'a real man fulfills his obligations'. Mr. Gold brought me into his office. He handed me a dozen roses and told me it was time to make up my mind. He said I knew who to give them to and I needed to listen to my heart."

Neal's brows shot to his hairline. "My father said that?"

David nodded. "And then he told me that if MM and I thought we were fooling anyone but ourselves, we were obviously too incompetent to work at his company and he'd have our pink slips ready by Friday." 

There was a titter of laughter in the gathered crowd. 

"I guess what I'm saying," David continued, "Is that Mr. Gold made me believe in second chances. And I don't know your whole history together. And I'm certain you have every right to how you feel. But where there's love... I just think everyone deserves a second chance." 

Angus was overwhelmed. He had never fully realized how much impact that day had had on David. The tears he had been fighting spilled over. "Thank you, David." He rasped, at last. David gave Angus' shoulder a final squeeze and walked back over to his fiancé, who kissed him soundly. 

Angus crossed the room to his son. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening out, Bae... Neal. I'm gonna go. I just..." He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a business card and pen. He scrawled quickly across the back and offered it to his son. "This is my personal mobile line. I have no expectations but I wanted you to have it. In case you might... like to call your old man once in a while."

Neal stared at the card, his lower lip quivered and his nostrils flared. After what seemed an eternity, he took the card and slid into his pocket. He met Angus' eyes. "I'll... I'll think about it... Poppa." 

Angus swiped uselessly at his damp cheeks. "Thank you, son."

With a tight smile, Neal walked back to the bar and Angus became aware of Belle once more at his side. She smiled at him gently and slid an arm through his free one.

"Home?" She asked.

"Aye, I'd like that."

 


	21. Happily Happily Ever After....

**Three months later**

 

"...can't go in! He's not receiving visitors!"

Belle could hear David protesting from clear across the office. The door slammed and Belle jumped slightly. An attractive dark haired woman strode into the office and slithered sinuously into the leather chair across from Angus’ desk.  
  
"Gold."  
  
"Regina. Please don't let your complete lack of an invitation stop you. It never has before" Angus didn't look up from his ledger but Belle noticed the knuckles of the hand holding his pen grow whiter.  
  
_So this was the infamous Regina._ Belle drew herself up a little taller. Regina pretended not to notice her and fixed Angus with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.  
  
"We used to be such friends. We shouldn't let a bit of business come between us like this..." Regina purred.  
  
"One would have to be a desperate soul indeed, to call you friend." Angus looked up with an irritated sigh. "Why are you here?"  
  
The older woman's eyes flicked to Belle and back to Angus. "It's a private matter. Perhaps you could send your girl out for tea?"  
  
Angus' shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly and Belle fought the urge to reach for him. She bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood. This was not her battle.  
  
Angus glared at Regina openly, now. "Miss French is here because she is a vital part of my company. She is not a secretary. You can state your business or be gone before someone drops a house on you, too."  
  
Belle swallowed a giggle.  
  
Regina cleared her throat and studied her nails. "Fine. If that's how you choose to proceed. I suppose we can dispense with the formalities. You have probably read about Hart corporations recent - and very temporary - dip in the marketplace. I've come today because I know we have certain holdings that Gold Industries would find valuable. We would like to discuss terms of a sale or trade. Perhaps even a merger."  
  
The room went very still, the air thick and tense. Regina pursed her lips, awaiting Gold's reply.  
  
At long last, Angus tipped back his head and laughed. Loudly. For several minutes, he nearly shook with it, eventually wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes. When he had calmed enough to speak, Regina's face had turned nearly scarlet with rage and embarrassment.  
  
"So, 'valuable holdings' is it? Is that the term you'd like to use? You'd like to take out the knife you stuck into my back and try to sell it to me? They were my fucking holdings, Regina. Do you think I couldn't have gotten them back by now if I really wanted them? Taking them when you left did me the favor of knowing which assets I could do without. Don't try to dress up your trash and call it fair market value." Angus leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a bitter smirk. "You and Cora have made your own beds and I'm quite happy to let you wallow in them."  
  
Regina stood and placed both hands on her hips. "I would think that you of all people know enough to keep your enemies closer. You're the infamous dealmaker! You never turn down a trade when you can benefit from it and I know for a fact that you can." She braced both hands on his desk and leaned forward. "I know you better than this, Gold. If you're showing off for pretty, little Miss French, here, I doubt she's worth it." Regina glanced at Belle. "No offense, honey."  
  
Belle stepped forward, her stomach roiling. "Believe me, Mr. Gold has no need to 'show off' for me. I already know what he is worth and I don't mean financially. Gold Industries is thriving, no thanks to your machinations." Belle looked down at Angus. His face was neutral but his eyes glowed with pride. She met Regina's gaze once more. "You seem to have overestimated what you could offer, here."  
  
"In other words, Dearie, you have nothing we want." Angus' voice was low and deadly, his smile full of poison.  
  
Regina faltered, gracing them both with a look of pure contempt before she quickly composed herself. "Is that so?"  She settled back into her chair, forcibly casual. "We'll tell me, how about your tech department? Hart has recently been in some very serious negotiations with a certain tech company that could make our stock skyrocket in the next few months. Last I heard, Gold Industries was still basically in the Stone Age on that front." She indicated the ledger book on Gold's desk.  
  
Belle leaned down to whisper in Angus' ear. "She has no idea, does she?"  
  
Angus shook his head and flashed her a mischievous grin. Turning back to Regina, he affected a frown. "Which company?"  
  
Belle surreptitiously typed a quick text message and sent it. The phone buzzed almost immediately with a response in the affirmative.  
  
Regina gave a smug smile, her syrupy tone returning. "I'm sorry, I'm only authorized to discuss that with our business partners."  
  
"Well," Belle crossed to the door. "I'm parched. I think I'll have that tea brought up, after all. I'll have David fetch a tea tray."  
  
Regina turned slightly in her seat. "No sugar for me. I'm on a diet. Do you have any artificial sweetener?"  
  
Belle gave her a bland look. "Only with you here."  
  
Regina's eyes narrowed but Belle pretended not to notice. She stuck her head out of the door and beckoned David over, giving him quick, quiet instructions. His eyes glinted with amusement as he agreed and took off down the hall.  
  
Angus gave Belle a curious look as she returned. She squeezed his shoulder in silent reassurance.  
  
"Well?" Regina asked impatiently. "Are we still open to discussion or not?"  
  
Angus steepled his fingers. "Does Cora know you're here?"  
  
Regina hesitated then answered a little too loudly. "Of course she does."  
  
Angus chuckled. "She doesn’t have a clue, does she?” He leaned back in his chair again. “Hmm, what will Mommie Dearest do when she learns you’ve been trying to deal behind her back?”

Regina’s face hardened. “I’m doing this for the company. Of course she’ll approve.”

“Working with family can be trying, I suppose.” Belle chimed in.

Regina looked at her as though she had just said something obscene.

“Working with Cora Hart is a far sight more than trying, sweetheart.” Angus muttered.

Regina made a scoffing noise but said nothing else to refute the assertion.

“Well,” Belle continued, “I suppose that makes sense. We aren’t having much of an issue with that, around here, are we? Working with family?”

Angus’ eyes lit as comprehension dawned. “No, it doesn’t seem that we are.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

“Tea?” David opened the door. “I brought extra, so everyone could have a cup.”

“Ah, right on time. Is he with you?” Belle asked, taking the tray from David and placing it on Angus’ desk.

“He is.” David confirmed.

“Please send him in.” Belle poured a cup for Angus and herself, then handed one to Regina. “Ms. Mills, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Gold’s son and, incidentally, his newest business partner. He just happened to be here signing the last of the contracts, today.” She nodded to Neal as he stepped through the door. “Neal, I believe you’ve met Ms. Mills before?”

Neal smirked as Regina nearly spilled the tea on herself.

 “Mr. Cassidy! You’re related to _him_?” Regina made a face and then tried to compose herself once more. “Even still… negotiations were going so well… If you honestly think that Gold will treat you – “

“I honestly believe that _my father_ won’t rip me off the way your mother was trying to.” Neal replied. “I had her investigated. Hart Corp is hanging on by a thread. She would have bankrupted me within a year. That’s why I _stopped_ negotiations a couple months back. Family or no family, Papa runs a solid company.” He nodded to Angus.

Still sputtering, Regina slammed her cup down and stalked out of the office.

Neal grinned at Belle. “Thanks for the text. That was fun. See you guys tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.” Belle nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Angus added.

Belle’s heart swelled to see the look of adoration on Angus’ face as his son walked away, whistling.

They were still patching things up. The business deal was the most solid part of their slowly rebuilding relationship. It had been Belle who got Neal to come into the office and talk it over, but once he was there, Angus had insisted on closing the deal. Negotiating terms together had brought them oddly closer. Over the past month and a half, they had been meeting twice weekly for lunch or drinks, talking things over. This weekend, Angus would be meeting his grandson for the first time.

Belle turned the diamond ring on her left ring-finger over a couple times, thinking.  _And in about eight and a half months, he’ll be meeting his new son or daughter…_

She couldn’t wait to tell him.


	22. Baby, Baby, Baby

Henry had taken to his grandfather quickly and with great zeal. Having grown up in America, he was fascinated by Angus’ rolling R’s. The boy was a bundle of inquisitive energy. He asked a million questions a second and Angus took the time to answer every single one in as much detail as a child’s mind could grasp.

They had discussed with Neal and Emma how much of the past was appropriate to disclose and Angus stuck to the story they had agreed upon. Though, Belle noted, he was somewhat prone to embellishment.

When it came her turn, Henry was equally excited about his grandfather’s pretty young fiancée. Her accent, though less pronounced, was also new territory for him to explore. He alternated between imitating both of them before laughing himself breathless. He then showed them around the apartment and introduced them to every one of his toys by name.

The day passed in a whirlwind and Belle was delighted to see the way Angus’ eye lit up at being called “Gran’pa.”

She and Emma were easy company for one another, already quite friendly by now. They had both conspired at times to get the very stubborn men in their lives talking to one another like civilized adults. Or, in this case, rolling around the floor with a 6 year old.

Belle checked in to make sure Angus’ leg was not bothering him and he assured her he’d never felt better. She made a mental note to ensure he kept it elevated once they got home, just in case.

The day waned and the sun was setting when they all said their goodbyes. Sure enough, Angus was struggling not to lean on his cane too heavily as they finally made their way through the door of the penthouse they now shared. Belle had only meant to stay until she got her own place, but by the time she found one, Angus asked her not to leave. It was a beautiful place, with plenty of room. Which was good, considering the news Belle had been bursting to tell him all week.

She ran a hot bath in the spacious tub. Angus disrobed quickly and sank into the water with a grateful sigh. “You’re too good to me.”

“I know,” Belle grinned, letting her clothes fall to the floor and kicking off her high heels.  

He sucked in a breath, eyeing her appreciatively. “I am a ridiculously lucky man.”

Belle made a sound of agreement that turned to a moan as she lowered herself into the deliciously warm water. She settled against his chest, contentedly. “I’d say I got pretty lucky, too.”

His arms wrapped around her and he nuzzled the side of her neck, his breath tickling the curls that had fallen loose from her upswept hair. “Well, soon to be Mrs. Gold, what can I do to… properly express my gratitude?”

Belle bit her lower lip, her nipples growing taut as that familiar tendril of desire unfurled in her belly. “Mmm, actually, Mr. Gold, I do have something to talk to you about.”

He sunk his teeth into her pulse point, one hand coming to her breast and the other moving lower to grip the top of one thigh. “Can it wait?”

Belle giggled, “Yes but only about another 8 months… Though you might start to notice before then.”

Behind her, Angus stilled. “Are you… are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Belle shifted to straddle his lap, his hands automatically coming to cup her backside. “If what you think I’m saying is that Neal’s about to get a little brother or sister and we might have a little extra explaining to do to Henry… then yes.”

Angus’ mouth dropped open, closed, then opened again. “Sweetheart?” he whispered, dropping his gaze downward and then back up to her face. His eyes were alight with wonder and so much affection, she thought her heart might burst.

Wordlessly, she nodded.

He pulled her to him, capturing her lips with a fierce determination. Belle kissed him back with equal gusto, only pulling away when they were giddy and lightheaded for lack of oxygen.

“How far along?” he asked, still incredulous.

“About 6 weeks, give or take a few days. Found out Tuesday.” She kissed the tip of his nose.

He laughed, "So that’s where you were at lunch. I thought you’d gone shopping with Ruby.”

“Well, I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure…”

“Why not tell me Tuesday? Not that I’m complaining… but I could have known a whole five days, sooner!” He teased.

Belle rolled her eyes. “Because I didn’t want to overwhelm you before your first time meeting Henry, silly man.”

“With that news, by all means, sweetheart, overwhelm me!”

They laughed and kissed again, more languidly this time. His hand tracing slippery patterns up and down the length of her spine. Belle combed her fingers through his damp hair, savoring the soft little sounds he made when her nails found a sensitive spot. She felt him hardening against her stomach and she shifted up onto her knees. One hand still on his shoulder, she dipped the other into the water to stroke along his length. He groaned, blunt nails digging into the flesh of her arse. He nibbled his way along her jaw and down her neck until he could pluck at one pert nipple with his teeth. Belle hummed her approval, arching into him.

His greedy mouth lavished her breasts as his hand traveled between her legs. She was already aching for him by the time his fingertips brushed her entrance, bringing her own wetness up to tease her little fleshy nub. Belle’s hips juddered, of their own volition and she cried out. God, she needed him… needed to feel him move inside her, joining and belonging, moving together…. She pulled his mouth back up to hers, reaching down to align herself with his cock.

She sank down oh so slowly, feeling him fill her, inch by inch. He formed an inarticulate swear against her lips and she swallowed the sound. Finally, they were fully joined, hip to hip. Belle pulled back just enough to meet Angus’ eyes.

“I love you, Angus.”

“And I love you, Belle. So very, very much…”

Belle smiled and kissed him again, rolling her hips against his. She set an easy rhythm, mindful of his leg and the heat of the room. It was purely indulgent lovemaking, the shimmering pleasure in a perfect moment of union. She had not a single other care in the world but the man between her thighs. It was almost as an afterthought when she tumbled gently over that edge. He followed almost immediately after, whispering over and over that he loved her.

Later, they lay naked and towel-dried in bed, her head on his chest and his heart beat strong and steady below her ear.

“Belle?”

“Hm?” she murmured, half-drowsing.

“Can I… the next time you go to the doctor, about the baby, can I come with you?”

Belle turned her head to peer up at him, “Sure, if you want to.”

“I do. Want to.” His eyes flicked away and then back, “I, uh, I wasn’t allowed to. With Bay.”

The past rearing it’s ugly head. It did that every now and then. She knew how to handle it, by now. Belle shifted up on one elbow to meet his gaze and hold it. “Angus, you are welcome to be with me every step of the way. This is your baby, too. Yours and mine. Ours.”

He gave her a shy smile, entwining the fingers of the closest hands. “Ours,” he repeated.

“Mm-hm. I want you by my side for everything. If you’re very good, you can even rub my feet when they get all swollen and achy from carrying all that extra weight around Manhattan.” She winked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What else do I get to rub?”

Belle laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

He pulled her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss across her knuckles. “You’re irresistible.”  


End file.
